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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529535">Just How I Am</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blankfreeze1958/pseuds/Blankfreeze1958'>Blankfreeze1958</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just How I Am [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Figure Skating RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 15:21:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>43,329</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23529535</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blankfreeze1958/pseuds/Blankfreeze1958</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The evolution of a partnership</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Scott Moir &amp; Tessa Virtue, Scott Moir/Tessa Virtue</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Just How I Am [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1807471</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>114</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Wilderness Skills</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They used to sit under the big tree in Scott’s backyard and eat lollipops. Scott’s mom would always have them in her car, and they’d each get one after practice. Strawberry had always been Tessa’s favourite and Scott liked blue-raspberry best. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’d sit under the shadows cast by tree and breathe deeply of the spring air. It always smelled special in the spring, like the air itself was coming back to life along with the flowers. And oh, the flowers! </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The flowers in Scott’s backyard were Tessa’s favourite. They grew wild, popping up here and there, wherever they felt the green patchwork of lawn might need a bit of embellishment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott would smile as Tessa inspected each one, surveying it like it were her job, taking account of its petals, its scent, its colour, all with the stem of her lollipop sticking out of her little pink lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she’d satisfied her flower quota, Tessa would plop back down beside Scott and they’d talk about practice or hockey or ballet or school, there were endless topics, really. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">One particular spring day, Tessa’s parents had allowed her to stay over Scott’s house for a camp out. They’d decided to save their lollipops for later as a treat after they’d set up their tent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa had never gone camping, and Scott was eager to show her the ropes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have to put the poles together like this.” He told her, careful of his finger placement while snapping the tent poles into each other like his father had taught him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can do it.” Tessa complained, reaching for one, ready to be put to work. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait!” Scott shouted, grabbing it away from her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can do it, Scott!” She told him, grabbing for it back, but he kept pulling it further from her grasp. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It really hurts if you don’t do it right.” Scott explained. The first time he’d done it, his finger had slipped into the little hole and the pole had taken a good chunk of skin with it as it had slid in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just… here.” He sighed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He handed it back to Tessa carefully, and held either side apart with all his strength while she carefully lined the pieces up. Scott let the pole slide together slowly, and watched as Tessa beamed when she heard them snap together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I did it! See?” She said, pridefully.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded. “Good job.” He said, and then helped her with the next one. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The tent was bright yellow with orange zippers on the door and windows. It smelled faintly of bug spray, a vague citrus wafting from it, left over from the summer months nearly a year ago now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was meant for a family of four, so it was rather large. Scott and his brothers and father normally fit in comfortably when they went camping, so he and Tessa put lots of space between them when they lay out their sleeping bags. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want the side by the window.” Tessa said, and Scott didn’t argue, shuffling across the crinkly tarp floor in his thick socks to lay out his bag.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was borrowing Scott’s dad’s sleeping bag so it was rather large for her, and she spent several minutes smoothing out all the wrinkles, the deep green nylon swishing under the movements of her tiny hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When you’re in the woods, where do you shower?” Tessa asked, turning to look at Scott, who was lounging on top of his sleeping bag now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t.” He said simply, eyes following the shadow of a fly on the outside of the tent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But what if you’re dirty?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugged as best he could while lying on his back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyebrows shot up, trying to wrap her head around going to bed all muddy. It was hard to fathom. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about brushing your teeth?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sighed. “I guess you could brush your teeth if you bring a toothbrush. I didn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t brush your teeth?” Tessa was in disbelief. “You’re lying.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott opened his eyes and sat up. “Am not! We didn’t have anything to even brush with!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s nose crinkled. “That’s gross.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s camping.” Scott said, repeating the sentiment his dad had spouted when Scott had actually asked that same questions some months ago. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I would bring a toothbrush.” Tessa said. “I’m not going to go to sleep dirty and I’m going to brush my teeth tonight.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shrugged. “My mom will make us anyway.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Alma watched as the two little campers made their way back to their tent in their pyjamas for the night. They’d had a little snack before bed and brushed their teeth (Tessa, very enthusiastically) and were armed with flashlights and one of Scott’s Goosebumps books. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">‘Nothing too scary.’ She’d warned her son, who had nodded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled and turned the outdoor light on for them and left the door open so they could make their way back inside in case anything were to happen. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott and Tessa set their flashlights down in the middle of the tent, casting a warm glow across everything inside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lollipop.” Scott said, pulling their treats out from where he’d hidden them in his sleeping bag. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa grinned as she opened her hands and prepared to catch it when Scott threw it at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckled when, despite having been so adamant about tooth brushing, Tessa popped the sugary little orb right into her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waited for the satisfied little smile he liked to see when she was eating such a treat, but instead she grimaced. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s wrong?” Scott asked, brow knitting together in concern. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It tastes icky.” She said, pulling it from her mouth and examining it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me see.” Scott crawled over to her on his hands and knees and she handed him the lollipop. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took a close look as well, twisting the stem between his fingers to rotate it before popping it into his own mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” He said, grimacing just as Tessa had and pulling it out. “‘Cause of the toothpaste.” He said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took the wrapper from her hand a wrapped the lollipop back up for her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The toothpaste taste will go away after a while.” He told her. “Maybe we can read a story first?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded. She was excited to hear a scary story and she liked to listen to Scott read. Tessa was a good reader herself, and she could read just as well even though she were two years younger, but Scott had a way of emoting that made the story more entertaining. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were nearly a chapter and a half in, and Scott was detailing the contents of an old attic when he stumbled through a word. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“War… Ward…” His face turned red and Tessa turned over from her spot on top of her sleeping bag to face him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He held the book out to her and she crawled over and peered over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wardrobe.” She said quietly, turning and crawling back to her sleeping bag, settling down and watching Scott as he struggled to find his place again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s a hard word.” Tessa said, her voice small but kind, and it seemed to put Scott at ease, as he found his place and began reading again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The story went on to tell of a doll who came to life and began terrorizing the family living in the house. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” Tessa’s voice sounded from her side of the tent.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott stopped reading and looked up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can we stop?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Aw, Tess, it’s just getting good!” Scott said, slightly annoyed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m scared.” She said softly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” He said, the annoyance quickly dropping from his tone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He dogeared the page, the way he’d seen Tessa do with her books and set it down beside him before looking over at her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was curled up in a ball in her Looney Tunes pajamas on top of the sleeping bag, her chestnut coloured bangs framing her face. She looked small, and Scott felt badly that she was frightened. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You shouldn’t be scared because it’s not real.” Scott said matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest, hoping that would work.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa took in a deep breath. “Sometimes I think about something scary and then a bunch of other scary things get into my head, too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like, things that are real?” Scott asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded, her bottom lip quivering.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like what?” Scott asked carefully, praying she wouldn’t cry. She could be annoying sometimes, but he could never stand to see her cry.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like… spiders.” Tessa whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott held back a scoff. “Tess, spiders can’t hurt you, they’re tiny. You just squish them.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She lifted her head up, eyes growing wide. “No, Scott there are some that are <em>really</em> big! And their legs are all hairy and they’re poisonous!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott could hear the alarm in her voice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Those don’t live near us.” He assured her. “Anyway, you can still squish those.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I get too scared to squish them.” She said sadly, settling back down on her pillow now that Scott seemed just as calm even after discussing the world’s biggest spiders. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, if we see any spiders, I promise I’ll squish them for you.” He said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa just stared at him for a while before blinking rapidly and nodding her head. That would do. “Ok.” She whispered. “Thanks.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She exhaled deeply and gave it a moment before adding timidly, “What about leprechauns?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. “What?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not funny!” She said, defensively.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Leprechauns aren’t scary, Tessa!” Scott laughed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jordan told me they sneak into your house and steal your eyelashes to make their clothes.” She informed him, seriously concerned that Scott hadn’t heard of this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott couldn’t stop laughing. “Tess- Tessa, no.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He was clutching his stomach and rolling on his sleeping bag, and Tessa felt her face grow hot and tears threaten to fall.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott-“ Her voice trembled, and it was enough to stop his laughter. He was panting now, but no longer smiling when he saw the way she looked at him. She was scared.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not true, Tessa.” He said. “Leprechauns aren’t real either, it’s just a story, like the one we were reading.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but Jordan said-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jordan was playing a trick on you.” Scott told her, slightly charmed by her gullibility. She believed <em>everything</em> everyone said to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She said. “Ok.” She believed Scott just as easily as she’d believed Jordan, harbouring no ill will toward her sister. She must’ve been joking, Tessa figured. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott wouldn’t lie to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Even if they <em>were</em> real,” Scott said, “They’re just as small as spiders. I would squish <em>them</em> for your too.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s lips twitched up into a smile and she nodded. “Ok.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about bears, though.” She asked, and Scott nearly rolled his eyes, but he refrained. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa, don’t you know bears are scared of ballerinas?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She crinkled her nose. “No they’re not!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded. “They really don’t like when people dance. It looks freaky to them. And ballet looks freakiest.” Scott pushed himself up and did a sloppy arabesque into a little hop, before landing on one foot and squatting down while kicking a leg out like a ninja. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa couldn’t contain her giggles as she rolled onto her back and clapped her hand over her mouth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott beamed, pleased that he’d made her happy again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See?” He asked. “It’s freaky.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa snorted and Scott started to laugh himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Plus, I’d protect you from bears, too.” He added when they’d both calmed down a bit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa watched him, impressed with his bravery. She felt safer with him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Should we eat our lollipops?” He asked, and she nodded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This time, it didn’t taste like toothpaste as Tessa popped it into her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She climbed under the covers of her sleeping bag and looked over at Scott, who had his arms behind his head, lounging back with his lollipop in his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” She asked, and he turned to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I sleep next to you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought you wanted the window.” He said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head. “I want to be next to you instead.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t move yet, waiting for him to give her an answer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have a better idea.” Scott said. He stood up and dragged his sleeping bag over to Tessa’s climbing under the covers as she moved to the far side to be as close as possible to him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This way we’ll be able to hear it if any leprechauns sneak up on us.” He joked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa jolted up. “You said that wasn’t real!” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckled and shook his head. “It’s not real, Tess. I’m just kidding.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He held his arms open for her and she snuggled into them, their sleeping bags overlapping as they joined in the middle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sucked on his lollipop as he listened to Tessa’s soft breathing, her little body warm against him. The leaves of the tree above them rustled gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not long after they’d settled, Scott had finished his lollipop and looked down to realise Tessa had fallen asleep with her lollipop still in her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled back a bit, smiling down at her. She looked even younger than he knew she was when she was sleeping. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled the sucker carefully from her mouth and wrapped it back up for her, setting it on the pillow between them, and switching off the flashlights. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lay back against the pillow and drifted off to the soft sound of Tessa’s breathing and the sweet scent of the strawberry lollipop between them. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Let's Make a Plan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This was written originally to Leather Jacket by the Arkells obv but I feel like it fits here pretty well.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” <br/></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The voice was crackly over the phone. Damn his poor connection, he could hardly get a signal in his basement where he’d been busy playing video games. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t recognised the number, but he thought at this hour he’d better answer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott slipped out through the double doors and into his backyard. It was late - later than he’d expect Tessa to call, and the yard was dark but for the light emanating from his basement door and the pale moonlight overhead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was late summer, and Scott was glad for it since his bare feet were planted firmly in the thick grass instead of a pile of Canadian snow.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He called into his phone, pulling it away from his ear for a moment to check the connection. Three bars would do. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” She sounded scared - frantic, almost.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He responded. “Are you ok?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um… I’m…” Her voice broke and Scott heard her sniffle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to call so late.” She said.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t be.” Scott said immediately. “Tess, don’t be sorry. What’s going on?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sniffled again and Scott felt his heart crumble. He couldn’t bear the thought of Tessa crying. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sad.” She said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Scott would have called her captain obvious or something under different circumstances in an effort to make her smile, but it didn’t feel right to do now. She seemed really upset.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you sad?” He asked, his voice low and gentle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waited patiently for her to answer, the sound of the crickets filling the radio silence between his ear and phone speaker. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My dad.” She whispered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott winced. He’d known Tess’s parents were getting a divorce, but lately things had seemed alright. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you want to tell me what happened?” He asked. “Maybe I could help.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa drew in a shaky breath. “I’m so sorry, Scott.” She said. “I know it’s late. I’m sure you were doing something import-“</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I was playing a stupid video game. Don’t be sorry. I’m glad you called… Whose phone are you calling from, anyway?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I- It’s a payphone.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like one of those phones where you put a quarter in to make a call.” She clarified unnecessarily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><br/>It wasn’t that Scott didn’t know what a payphone was, he’d just never heard of anyone actually <em>using</em> one. Plus, it meant she had his number memorised. He smirked at that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, who the fuck uses a payphone?” He asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know…” She trailed off. “Me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you on a payphone, anyway? Where’s <em>your</em> phone?” Scott asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I left it at home… I… I ran away.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You ran away?” He asked in slight amusement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but not too far. I got tired.” She sniffled and Scott was reminded of how upset she was. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“T, where were you planning to go?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a beat of silence.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” Scott asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know.” She admitted and Scott could hear the strain in her voice. “I was just upset and I - I couldn’t be home anymore. I didn’t even tell them I was leaving. They probably think I’m still in my room… Scott I don’t know. I don’t have a plan.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was near sobbing now, and Scott was gripping his phone with both hands. He knew Tessa better than anyone, and this was so, <em>so</em> unlike her, and not having a plan utterly terrified her. He hated to think of her standing at some grimy pay phone all alone at night scared and crying. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s ok, Tess, you don’t need a plan, I’m here. Can you tell me where you are?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was just walk- walking.” She hiccuped.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whimpered. “I should’ve had a plan.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, it’s ok, T. It’s alright. I’m going to come get you. That’s the plan, ok? That’s <em>our</em> plan.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa broke into sobs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shh, Tess. It’s ok.” Scott had already tiptoed his way through the house and into the kitchen, being as quiet as possible so as not to wake his parents. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t - ave… to come.” Scott made out what she was trying to say through her sobs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course I’m coming.” He said softly. “Where are you?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His gentle voice struck a chord deep within her and Tessa sobbed harder. “Scott.” She whimpered. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was absolutely distraught, his one hand pulling his hair, his other pressing the phone so tightly to the side of his face that it made an indent on his cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just tell me, Tess. It’s ok.” He said, keeping his voice as calm as possible. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa took a deep, shaky breath. “Near Stony Creek at that gas station where we got those weird ice pops that one time.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott knew just where she was, and <em>Jesus, </em>she’d really made it far from home. He pushed through the screen door and out into the humid night.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The phone beeped - Tessa’s time was almost up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess. Tess.” Scott said desperately as he climbed up into his dad’s old pickup. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” He heard her little voice on the other end.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you … safe?” He asked. “I can be there in fifteen minutes. Is that ok? Will you be ok until then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The phone beeped three times before Tessa could answer, cutting their call off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott slammed his phone down on the center console. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck.” He cursed, throwing the truck in reverse and screeching out of the drive. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott didn’t allow himself to look at the fuel gauge. He knew he was speeding, and if he got pulled over, he wanted to be honest when the cop asked him if he knew how fast he was going. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He knew it was unsafe, but Tessa was alone and <em>crying</em>. He hated the thought of her just waiting there outside of some grimy gas station where <em>anyone</em> could walk by… <em>Fuck. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t think like that. He shook his head and took a corner fast, shifting gears. He’d only had his license for a year, but his dad had said he was a natural with a stick shift. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He screeched into the gas station five full minutes ahead of schedule and pulled the keys out of the ignition, slamming the door behind him as he scoured the property for Tessa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The payphone was on the side of the building and that’s where he saw her; sitting on a milk crate, her head in her lap, her hair disheveled and falling all over. She wore pale pink floral spaghetti strap dress with her beat up Adidas trainers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He called to her as he made his way over, breaking into a jog. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looked up at him and he could’ve sworn he felt his heart stop. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was just sitting there under the glow of the streetlights and against the dingy white concrete walls of the gas station. Her eyes were tired and puffy, and her cheeks were still wet with tears and flushed from the efforts of crying. She looked beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Scott felt the pain in his heart at the hurt she was experiencing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stood as he made his way toward her, reaching her arms out for him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He moved quicker, breathless now from all the stress of worrying over her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he finally reached her, her arms wrapped around his neck, and his went to her back, pulling her close and lifting her off the dirty concrete and into his arms, twirling her around twice before setting her back down, but never letting her go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He held her as tightly as he could, and she pressed her face against his neck, crying into his shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” He heard her say. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stroked Tessa’s hair gently, running his fingers gently through the smooth dark strands and then gripping the back of her neck, giving her a bit of a massage there to try and ease the tension he felt in her body.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shh.” Scott whispered over and over. “You didn’t do anything. Don’t be sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She clutched at Scott’s old t-shirt and pressed as close as she could against him, breathing in his scent. It was familiar and comforting, and that, coupled with his voice and warmth and his hands running through her hair and across her back were enough to calm her down. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m here.” He whispered as her sobs turned to tiny sniffles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott rested his cheek on the top of her head, rocking them back and forth, feeling his own anxiety begin to relax now that he held her safely in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They heard the crunching of stray rocks under tires in the distance as another car pulled into the station. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” Scott whispered to her, pulling back slightly and leaning his forehead against hers, hands on her cheeks, thumbs brushing away her tears. “Let’s get out of here, eh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shook her head. “I don’t want to go home.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, no.” Scott soothed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Not home. Let’s just go somewhere quieter.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa met his eyes. She trusted him. “Ok.” She breathed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa allowed Scott to hold her hand and walk her to the passenger side of his dad’s truck. She stepped back and let go of him while he opened the door for her, but he offered his hand back immediately to help her up into the seat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she was settled, he closed the door and climbed in on his side, pulling out of the station and taking her hand between their seats, giving her a reassuring little squeeze. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott drove almost slowly now, carefully. He never wanted to put Tess in danger, and he’d never forgive himself if anything happened to her on his watch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They pulled into the meadow behind the soccer fields, and Scott threw the truck in park. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stared straight ahead, her eyes angled upward at the stars. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The windows were down and Scott could hear the same familiar chirping of the crickets that he’d heard earlier as a breeze blew in, the night finally cutting the humidity of the previous day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re cold.” Scott whispered, when he saw the goosebumps on Tessa’s freckled arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leant into the backseat of the pickup, rummaging around for a minute before pulling his dad’s leather jacket from where it was folded on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Put this on.” He told her, holding it up for her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned wordlessly and allowed Scott to help her shrug the jacket onto her slender arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiled weakly at the look of her in it - it made her look small, like she’d looked bundled up at practice when they were children. Though Joe Moir’s fashion sense was a far cry from Tessa’s, Scott thought she made the old beat up jacket look good. She’d make anything look good. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come here.” He said, holding his arms out for her again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without hesitation, Tessa resumed her spot against his chest, happy to revel in the feel of his arms draped protectively around her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you.” She whispered after a long moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s hand ran across her back. “I’m glad you called me.” He breathed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hugged him tighter, and they stayed like that for a long while before Tessa spoke. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The stars are so beautiful.” She said quietly, and Scott smiled. He’d known she’d appreciate them. They were easier to see out closer to Ilderton than in London, since there was less light pollution. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Want a better view?” He asked, pulling back to see her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nodded and he popped his door open, climbing out and making his was to her side, holding his hand out for her again. He knew she didn’t need the help, but he liked to do it. Anything to make things easier on her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He walked her to the back of the truck, unlatching the door to the trunk bed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” He said, gripping her at her hips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her hands instinctively went to his shoulders and he lifted her up so she was sitting on the truck bed, waiting until she let go of him to release her hips and climb up himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They settled in, leaning against the back of the truck bed, Scott allowing Tessa to snuggle into his chest, her arm draped across him. He ran his hands over her, trying to make sure she was warm. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to.” He whispered. “But I want you to know I’m here if you do. I’m all ears.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tilted her head up to look at him. “You do have big ears.” She whispered back, stroking her hand through his hair and then reaching down and pulling on the tip his ear, the coy smile on her face making Scott light up inside, and the little tug she gave him sending shivers down his spine.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took a minute to compose himself before retaliating by playfully flicking her on the nose. Tessa flinched back, giggling, before settling back down on his chest and hugging him tighter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks, Scott.” She said, looking back up at the stars. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiled down at her, watching as they twinkled in her eyes, unable to look away from her. “You got it, kiddo.” He whispered.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I'm Sleeping</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” Scott stood in her bedroom doorway. Today was their day off and Tessa hadn’t returned his text from the previous night. Scott knew she’d had a rough day at practice yesterday, so he’d decided to come check in on her.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The room was as dark as Tessa could manage to make it at 3 o’clock in the afternoon. Her drapes were pulled over her windows, the lights were all out, the bathroom door was even shut to block the light that filtered in from that window out. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was curled up under her blanket, facing away from him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” Scott whispered.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sleeping.” Came her muffled voice, soft and sad. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiled weakly and walked around to the other side of her bed, kneeling down at her bedside and leaning in so his face was close to hers. Her eyes were shut tightly, but he could tell she’d been crying by the tracks of tears left over on her cheeks. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She warned, sensing him there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’re sleeping.” He said, playing along. “Too bad because I going to ask you if sometimes you just feel trapped up here.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pressed just index finger gently to her forehead. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because sometimes I feel like that. And it feels like there’s no way to get out. And you have tons of people telling you how to do things or telling you you’re doing things wrong all the time and you feel like you can never do anything right at all and you wonder why it matters anyway because you feel like you have no control over anything anymore?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s bottom lip quivered.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott leaned his forehead against hers as he whispered, “If you were awake I would just let you know that I get what that feels like too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She let out a little gasp of air, tears falling from her closed eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I’d tell you that if you feel like you’re alone, you aren’t.” Scott reached out and stroked Tessa’s hair back from her forehead. She whimpered. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s all I wanted to tell you. But I’ll remind you again when you wake up.” He whispered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sobbed. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” Scott soothed, his hand moving to her back. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Or if you want someone to lay with you while you sleep, I could do that, too.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded her head slightly, the tiniest “yes, please.” Squeaking out of her throat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It hit Scott hard, right in the chest, and brought tears to his own eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He climbed in bed with Tess and pressed himself against her back, holding her firmly from behind while she cried so hard he could feel her shaking, her hands gripping his so tightly he was sure her nails would mark him, but he didn’t care. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned in his arms and pressed her face into the crook of his neck, letting out deep, gut wrenching sobs against him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All Scott could do was hold her tight, rub her back and whisper to her that it would be ok and that she wasn’t alone. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that was all she needed. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Prove It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re at <em>another</em> party. Scott would normally be pretty happy about it, but lately he dreads them. He and Tess have switched roles in that way.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s over in the kitchen - he can see her through the little cut out in the breakfast bar, all stuffy paneled wood like they’re in some 70’s ski lodge. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Charlie calls it <em>old charm. </em></span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s talking to Fedor… again. What is it about that guy? He clearly only wants one thing. Scott feels beads of sweat begin to collect on the back of his neck. Should he go rescue her? She doesn’t look like she wants rescuing. Not anymore. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then she turns and she’s talking to this other guy, one Scott hasn’t seen before, and he likes that even less. Who the hell is he?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has scruffy dark hair and dark brown eyes, he clearly had five o’clock shadow, which immediately has Scott feeling defensive, and he’s tall. And he’s looking at Tess like she’s a piece of meat. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches, bleary eyes trained on Tess’s lithe form, tight and strong in her little black dress, her dark hair framing her face. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott clenches his entire body as he watches this guy step toward Tess and slip a hand around her waist. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">…And the way Tess is looking up at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Why the fuck are you looking at him like that, Tess?</em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p3"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was about to get up from the ratty green couch he was seated on when he felt a hand clap him on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sup, Moir?” It was Charlie. “Cool asthetic, yeah?” He asked, sweeping his arm out and over his apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a nice place, sure.” Scott mumbled, craning his neck to try and see over Charlie’s shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mer isn’t a fan, but she’ll come around. She’ll… Oh, hey, dude, try this beer.” Charlie pulled a beer out of seemingly nowhere (the mini fridge he kept beside the couch stocked with beer bought by his roommate since the whole lot of them are still underage), and tried to hand it to Scott, who’d already stood up, a bit wobbly on his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m good, I’m good.” He told Charlie, waving him away. He was supposed to drive.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Charlie shrugged. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looked up to where Tess had been, only to have his stomach drop straight through his feet when he realised she wasn’t there. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You seen Tess?” Scott asked Charlie, who’d already turned and was talking to one of the other skaters.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Fuck. </em>
  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott made his way through Charlie’s dimly lit hallway, feeling sick to his stomach, and not from the alcohol. He hated to think of Tessa alone with a guy in some seedy back room in Charlie’s retro porn setting of an apartment. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He briefly considered that this was none of his business, but if Tessa was drunk, there was no way he was going to let her alone with a guy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He started opening doors left and right. A vacuum fell out of a closet and into him, he walked in on some dude peeing, and finally burst in on Tessa and scruffy. They were sat on the guest bed, facing one another, the guy’s hand almost all the way up Tess’s thigh, about to slip under the hem of her dress. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott!” Tessa was surprised to see him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, man, we’re busy.” The guy said. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure you are. Tess, we gotta go, we have an early practice tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She said, shrugging. “I thought I might have Drew drive me back, but thanks.” She said, meeting Drew’s eyes that way that always hurt Scott inside for reasons he didn’t ever allow himself to acknowledge. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shook his head. “Nah, I gotta drive you back, kiddo, I promised your mom.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s face grew red and Drew let out a nervous laugh. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s kidding.” Tessa said sharply, glaring at Scott. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m not.” Scott said. “Tess, come on.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, it’s no big.” Drew said, thumb brushing over Tessa’s thigh. “You have my number.” He winked at her before getting up and strolling out of the room, clapping Scott on the shoulder as he left. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” Scott said softly from the doorway. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was looking down at the bed, her eyes trained on a wrinkle in the sheets. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Without looking at him, Tessa stood from the bed and stormed out of the room. Scott followed quickly behind her, as they left Charlie’s apartment without saying goodbye. Tessa’s boots clacked loudly down the wooden stairs and onto the pavement as she strode to the car. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She paused at the door, waiting for the sound of the lock disarming as Scott unlocked it before pulling it open and throwing herself down into the seat, slamming the door shut behind her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott got in the driver’s side and stuck the keys in the ignition, but didn’t turn them. They sat in silence for a moment before he allowed himself to look over at Tessa. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the pale moonlight, he could see the shiny streaks of tears that had begun to run down her flushed cheeks, but her expression was blank. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waited for another minute, trying to think of something to say. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are we just going to sit here?” She asked, unable to keep the emotion from her voice the same way she kept it from her face. “You were just in such a hurry to leave.” She added, bitterly, choking a bit on her words as a sob tried to work its way from her lungs before she tramped it back down.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” Scott said carefully.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Ok, Scott.” She angled her eyes upward, hoping to stop the slow tears that crept over the lip of her eyelids. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chewed his lip. “Tessa that guy… He wasn’t… He wanted…” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not an idiot, Scott, I know what he wanted.” Tessa shot back quickly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then why were you in there alone with him?” Scott asked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned to him, and he account of her; her freckles almost glinting thanks to the reflection of the moonlight off the tracks of her tears, her hair was down, but she still sported those signature flyways as a result of the Canton humidity. Her eyes were pale green in the dim light but Scott didn’t miss the fire housed just behind them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She took his breath away. And that’s when he realised it; just a moment before she said it aloud. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m some stupid little kid anymore!” She crossed her arms. “I’m tired of you treating me like one!” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a moment of silence as Scott took it in. She was right. And he’d known that. He was reminded of it whenever he saw her. It wasn’t like it used to be. He was <em>attracted</em> to her. But it didn’t change the fact that he still felt protective of her. In fact, it heightened that feeling. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I know you’re not a kid.” He said.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But everyone’s always teasing me about being such a baby and I’m tired of it, Scott. I just want to get it over with so people will move on and stop talking about it.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s breath caught in his throat. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get what over with?” He asked. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned her body so she was facing forward again, no longer making eye contact with Scott. “Sex.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was silent. He was truly at a loss for words and he felt like he might be suffocating, like his throat might be closing up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not a big deal.” She grumbled, feeling him staring at her, her arms still crossed over her chest. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It… it is a big deal.” Scott said, finally. “It is, Tessa.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffed again. “Coming from the guy who’s making out with a different girl at every party.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s kissing.” Scott said, defending himself. “That’s way different.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was Tessa’s turn to be silent now. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you ever even made out with someone?” He asked.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She whipped her head over to look at him, and he realised that had been an insensitive way to ask the question. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just meant… maybe you should start slow.” Scott said, sorry he’d brought it up. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s bottom lip quivered and more tears spilled from her eyes despite her best efforts to stanch them.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott exhaled slowly. “I just know that guys are assholes, Tess. And you’re like… the best person I know. I just don’t want to see you get hurt, and I don’t want you to do anything you regret.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wiped her eyes with her forearm. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed Scott.” She said, her tone slightly less caustic, “But guys aren’t exactly lining up to make out with me.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nearly laughed.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s really not funny.” Tessa said, obviously hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa, you’re so fucking oblivious.” Scott told her. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She frowned at him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Every guy at that party wanted to talk to you, you just assume that everyone is as sweet as you and all they’re doing is giving you a friendly little smile.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa considered this before deciding that Scott was joking. “That’s not funny.” She told him again, still hurt. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s not.” Scott said, seriously “Because it’s not a joke. Tess, every single guy in there was checking you out. I’m pretty sure Meryl was furious about it.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa opened her mouth and then closed it. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyone with eyes can see that you’re gorgeous, T. And you deserve a lot more than just some greaseball in Charlie’s musty guest bedroom.”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was white knuckling the steering wheel as the words came out of his mouth. They weren’t exactly easy for him to say, but she needed to hear them. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was silent, still, until finally, she spoke. “You think… those guys want to kiss me?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded. “Every single one of them. And I think they want a lot more than that.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She turned to him, staring him down. “Do you want to kiss me?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shut his eyes tightly, hands squeezing the faux leather wheel even tighter. “Yes.” He said softly, praying she wouldn’t ask if he wanted more too. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But instead of her voice, he heard the squeaking of her moving in the leather seat, and then felt the familiar warmth of her close to him. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’d leaned over, her elbow on the center console, and was now eye level with him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She breathed, and he felt the warm rush of air on his cheek before opening his eyes and turning to meet hers. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t speak, he couldn’t blink, he could hardly <em>move</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His heart was pounding so hard he could hear it in his ears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes darted down to her lips. They looked so soft.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Prove it.” She whispered, her lips nearly brushing against his. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that was it. Scott let out one last breath before pressing himself forward, bushing his lips over hers, nuzzling her nose, his hands coming up to cup her dampened cheeks before his tongue ghosted along the seam of her lips. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She parted them for him and his lips captured hers in a firm kiss, his tongue invading her mouth, flitting across hers as he hummed at the sweet taste of her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s hand was on Scott’s chest, bracing herself there, curling his shirt into her fingers, making a fist. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott worked his lips as gently as he could against hers, his thumb stroking at her cheek, his lungs breathing her air. He could feel her eyelashes tickling his cheek, her hair against his hand, her scent overtaking him until there was nothing and nobody left but Tessa. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And when they finally pulled apart for air, they stayed there, lips swollen and still touching as they caught their breath. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pulled back first, moving up and placing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “Let’s get you home, eh?” He breathed hoarsely, starting the car. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa fell back into her seat, pressing her fingers to her lips briefly. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The drive home was silent, but as Scott had pulled over in front of Tessa’s apartment to allow her out, he leaned over toward her side. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey Tess?” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She ducked down to see him from where she stood on the curb of the sidewalk. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you tomorrow.” He was smiling. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She smiled back. “Yeah.” She said softly. “See you tomorrow.” </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. You Always Have Me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They’ve got a well deserved and long awaited week off. Tessa wants to spend it at home, but Meryl has invited him, along with two other pairs of skaters; Hannah, Keith, Lilly and Alec, to her cottage on the shore of Lake Eerie. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, T, it’ll be fun, I promise!” Scott tells her as he sits on the floor in her room while she packs for home. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Scott, nobody wants me there.” She says, trying to accept that as fact instead of taking it too personally. She’s not exactly sure why it seems that none of the other girls like her, but she knows it’s not just in her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not true.” Scott shoots back. “Meryl wouldn’t have invited you if she didn’t want you there.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes. “She invited me because she wants you there. It was just a curtesy to extend the invite to me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I’m not going unless you go.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I’m not going. Sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott sighed. “Come on, Tess. I promise it’ll be fun. Please?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hesitated at her dresser, hands hovering over her swimsuit. Maybe it would be fun. Maybe it would be an opportunity to actually become friends with some of the other girls. And Scott would be there if she needed him. She’d never been good at saying no to Scott.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She sighed, praying it wasn’t a mistake as she pulled a couple of swimsuits from her drawer and folded them neatly into her pack. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s eyebrows raised as he saw her. “Yeah?” He asked, excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughed happily, standing and pulling her into a hug. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Things seemed to be going well enough at the cottage, but for the most part, the girls were ignoring Tessa. She was used to it. She hadn’t had a lot of friends in school either, she found that girls her age just generally didn’t like her very much. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">So she hung around with Scott, Charlie, Keith and Alec instead. The girls judged her for this as well. She’d heard the talking about it behind a semi-closed door. They’d probably left it ajar on purpose, Tessa thought. They were saying she was a slut, that she was hanging out with the guys to get laid. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">What was she supposed to do, just hang out on her own?</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">That ended up being exactly what she did. She hated herself for letting the girls get to her, but at the same time, it was a relief to just lay out on the back porch where she could get lost in a book and not have to worry about the constant judgement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Will you go and get that frisbee Tess?” Hannah asked, smiling at Lilly. “We’ll want to play after dinner.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">The girls were busy setting the table on the patio for their last dinner there before leaving in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, yeah, sure.” Tessa said, folding the page in her book and setting it down on the wooden patio table. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She hopped up and made her way out toward the rickety dock, padding out gently, her bare feet careful not to step in any of the holes in the wood worn into the dock from the water. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She’d almost made it out to the frisbee when she realised that the dock was definitely not safe out here. The wood was almost squishy beneath her feet, and suddenly, before she had the opportunity to turn back, it gave way underneath her and her foot broke through, causing her to fall hard on the dock. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She heard the sound of high pitched laughter behind her and her face grew red as she felt tears begin to sting her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They’d done this on purpose. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“What’s wrong, Tess?” She heard Hannah shout at her. “Get a little stuck there?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa didn’t look at the girls on the patio, she didn’t want them to see the tears in her eyes, the embarrassment on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Guess you should lay off dinner tonight, Tess!” She heard one of them shout to her. She wasn’t sure which one it was. It didn’t matter.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Her bottom lip quivered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She tried her best to free her foot, but the wood was splintered around her and it hurt every time she moved it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It was only about another minute before she heard the guys make their way onto the patio for dinner, but it felt like an hour. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Finally, she heard Scott’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey… what… What the fuck? Tessa?” He shouted, running toward the dock. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess? You ok? What’s wrong?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned finally, still focused on the sound of the girls laughing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott saw the hurt on her face and his heart leapt into his throat as he climbed onto the dock without hesitation. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” Her voice was raspy. “Be careful, it… you shouldn’t walk on it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott slowed slightly, almost tiptoeing until he reached her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He knelt down in front of her, distributing his weight carefully and blocking her from seeing anyone on the patio. She was sure he did it on purpose. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He said softly when he saw the tears in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa immediately broke down now that nobody could see her. She reached forward and Scott leaned toward her, letting her bury her face in his abdomen and cry. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He set his hand gently on the side of her head, stroking her hair gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess,” He said after a while. “Let’s get your foot out of there.” He was afraid she was injured. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shook her head. She just wanted to be left there. She felt lower than low and she shook with sobs and anxious breaths.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, hey, hey. Tessa. Tessa.” Scott tried to get her to relax. “Look at me, hey, look at me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa eventually complied</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Nobody has to touch you. Just me.” He told her. “Would that be ok? Just me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s breathing calmed as she lost himself in his dark eyes the way she’d been trained to do for so many years, and she nodded her head. “Ok.” She said quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ok, ok.” He said soothingly, inching nearer. “You’re so brave, kiddo.” He said assessing where her ankle was caught </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m just going to touch you right here, ok?” He said, hovering his hand over her ankle. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">A tear slipped from her eye and she whimpered, but nodded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Most would’ve accepted that as consent and gone forward, but not Scott. He rose to his knees and carefully took Tessa’s face in his hands. “I got you.” He said softly, kissing her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s head was tilted down toward the dock, and Scott could tell she didn’t like everyone watching. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, T?” He brought her gaze toward him. “It’s just us, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa drew in a shaky breath and nodded, arms reaching out for her partner. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He leaned against her, letting her press her face into his neck.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Shh. Shh, Tess.” He rocked her, careful not to move her lower body. “I know it hurts, I know.” And it did hurt. It hurt in more ways than one. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He ran a hand across her back. “But we’re going to fix it. You and me, right?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was silent for a moment, before nodding.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You and <em>I.” </em>She corrected him tearfully, voice muffled against his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckled and kissed her temple. ”Got me there, Virtch. Okay, so, I’m just going to move your ankle here a little, try to get your foot out, ok? Tess, it might hurt a little. I’m so sorry. I need you to tell me if it’s too much, ok? No playing tough guy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He watched for her agreement before moving his hand down to her ankle where it was caught in the rotting wood. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott cradled the side of her calf, supporting it and holding it above the wood of the dock while he used his other hand to stabilise and wiggle her ankle a bit to loosen it from the shredded wood. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa gasped and winced, clutching at Scott’s shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“S’okay.” He said softly, concentrating on his movements, making sure he was being safe with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He felt the wood by her ankle, the way it was soaked through with water, weakened enough to have collapsed in on itself, and suddenly he had an idea. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He stroked Tessa’s arm to help her stay focused on him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I need your help, ok?” He asked. She nodded again. She’d do anything he said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“I’m going to lift this wood up, I think it’ll come up enough to where you can slide your foot out, but we gotta be quick, yeah?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Tessa said, holding his gaze, glad to have a task. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Scott said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You guys ok?” It was Charlie calling from the end of the dock. He just wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly, but it snapped Tessa back into reality and Scott could tell how distressed she’d become. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He turned back quickly to Charlie and shouted that he had it under control before talking Tessa back into focusing on him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He said, once she was calm again. “One, two, three…” And he lifted the wood quickly and with all his might, and Tessa was able to pull her foot free and fall toward Scott and into his arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He gathered her up quickly, pulling them both carefully upward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“The frisbee.” Tessa said softly, as Scott was wrapping an arm around her waist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Leave it.” Scott said disdainfully. “They can fucking get it themselves.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott walked her carefully to the end of the dock where he hopped off and took her into his arms, carrying her back up to the patio where everyone was waiting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, are you ok?” Meryl asked. It sounded genuine, but Tessa didn’t have time to answer as Scott scoffed at her, carrying her through the door that Charlie had opened for him and into the cottage, all the way back to Tessa’s room in the very back corner.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He sat on Tessa’s bed, not letting her out of his arms, just silently holding her as he fumed inside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He wasn’t always the most observant guy, but anyone with eyes could see that the girls had done that on purpose and Scott was sorry he hadn’t believed her, hadn’t fully listened when she’d told him how bad things had gotten.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott pressed his cheek to the top of her head.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Is your foot ok?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolled her ankle, testing the range of motion, before nodding. “Yeah.” She said. “It’s ok.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott brought dinner to Tessa’s room, and they ate together, just the two of them on her bed. They had burgers and a side salad, and they laughed stupid little things like the way Meryl’s face looked like Marina’s when she was mad, or the last comedy special they’d seen together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Soon, it was dark out, and time for bed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">I don’t have to leave. Scott said, hoping Tessa would take the hint that he actually very much wanted to stay with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa eyed him skeptically. “They all think all I want is to have sex with one of you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott chewed his lip. “Since when do we care what other people think?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugged. It was easy for him to say, everyone loved him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He said softly, touching her shoulder. “You always have me, Tessa. No matter what.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“You’d stay?” She asked.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He nodded.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Will you come back after everyone is asleep?” She asked. Tessa didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea. It was hard not to care what people said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Of course.” Scott told her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">And he did. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">About an hour after everyone had retired, Scott slipped back in her room. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was in a pink tank top and white shorts under the covers, reading as she waited.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott climbed into bed in a pair of athletic shorts and a white t-shirt.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Meryl yelled at the girls for what they did.” He told her. “It was a whole big thing, I’m sorry you missed it.” He smirked. “You should have seen their faces.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Really?” Tessa asked, dog-earing her book and setting it on the nightstand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded. “She wanted to apologize for them, but I told her you might like to wait until morning.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">He settled down on the pillow across from her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa didn’t know what to say. That meant so much to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiled. He knew it would cheer her up. “Maybe she’s not so bad, after all.” He said, patting the pillow, signaling her to come closer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They had slept together as kids, when they were camping or in when they were homesick, and they were used to sharing pillows. Scott liked to stroke Tessa’s hair, and Tessa liked having her hair stroked. It was a nice arrangement. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Tessa settled in and closed her eyes as Scott’s brought his hand to her hair, beginning their ritual. They hadn’t done this since long before coming to Canton, and it felt to Tessa like coming home. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t let them get to you, T.” Scott whispered as Tessa felt herself drifting off to sleep. “You always have me.” He repeated. “You always have me.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. He Doesn't Love You Right</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They swayed gently to the music, Scott’s hand running across her back, his other holding her steady at her hip, pulling her near.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’d just gotten into a rather public argument with her boyfriend, Matt, who’d been upset with her for mixing up the directions to the restaurant they’d gone to earlier. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’d tried to retreat to the bathroom, embarrassment setting in, but Scott had followed her, taken her by the hand and pulled her into the empty kitchen instead. He hadn’t said anything to her, had just wrapped his arms around her, begun rocking her gently. It felt nice to be in Scott’s arms. She liked it there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You look so beautiful.” He told her with his lips brushing over her ear so she was close enough to hear him over the music.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighed deeply and leaned her cheek on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They were at Charlie’s apartment for yet another party, dancing in the kitchen alone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wished Matt would be this way. She wished Matt were half as good to her as Scott was. She wished that of any man, really. Everyone she’d ever been with or would ever be with would be compared to Scott. He was the standard even though their relationship had never been romantic except for the kiss they’d shared a year ago.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matt <em>might</em> say something like that to her - something about her looks. But he wouldn’t use those words. He’d tell her she looked <em>hot</em>, or that her<em> ass looks great</em>, or something like that. Scott could be visceral like that, too - she’d heard him talk about girls that way, but it was these moments that really set him apart. He knew how to be soft with her. He was gentle. He wasn’t afraid of it. It didn’t make him feel less of a man. He embraced it. He made her feel safe and loved and beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matt wanted to fuck her.<br/>She felt Scott relax against her as she let out a deep breath before inhaling his scent; musky and strong. He’d always smelled ... masculine. He’d always made Tessa feel at home, and she needed that right now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt all her anxieties extinguished at once, and it was liberating because recently the stress of their training and the constant critiques from Matt had grown to feel absolutely eviscerating. The relief, the calm, the quiet, was such a welcome respite from the chaos that it was like emotional whiplash. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt the tears stinging her eyes and groaned in spite of herself, lifting her head and wiping at her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She said, shaking her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Fuck, Tess, get it together.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” Scott said gently, worried. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shook her head, fanning her eyes to try and save her eyeliner.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” Scott pulled her closer, but she pushed back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I just. I’m sorry. It’s just ... hard.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott furrowed his brow. “Do you need-“ But Tessa cut him off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh shoot.” Tessa’s tears had begun to fall and she wiped at her eyes and cursed in her way that wasn’t technically cursing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiled gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” He said, offering her his sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” Her eyes widened and she pushed his arm away. She would ruin his nice white shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just a shirt, Tess.” He said, lips quirking at her appall. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>It’s just a shirt. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was perhaps the biggest difference between Scott and Matt. Priorities. Tessa was not Matt’s priority. He liked having her around, sure, but would he offer her his sleeve like Scott? Maybe it was silly, but even after a fight, Scott would still treat her like she was the most important thing to him. It was like nobody and nothing else mattered when they were together. It was never like that with Matt. When they fought, it frightened Tessa. She could see the hatred in his eyes, the disdain. Matt thought he was better than her and he wasn’t afraid to say it, he wasn’t afraid to make her feel worthless. He was quite good at it, actually. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott didn’t know this, of course Scott didn’t know. He has his own relationship to worry about, - he always does. She wouldn’t want to burden him with hers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But she could tell his offer was genuine, so Tessa took Scott’s sleeve shyly and wiped at her eyes, smudging the pearly white with her mascara. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here.” Scott said, after she’d looked to him for approval. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He swiped his thumb under her left eye, and then just under her right, wiping the black on his pants afterward. He was used to helping her fix her makeup. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He offered her a weak smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Better?” She asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott reached out and ran his hand gently down her arm. “Perfect.” He said softly, his eyes sad. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a moment of silence, inaction. The two just stood there facing one another. Tessa could feel Scott’s breath, warm and tangy from the beer he’d just had, against her cheek. He moved closer, and Tessa mirrored his movements. It was probably out of instinct - they did that all day long. But maybe it wasn’t. Tessa had admitted to herself that she’d had a bit of a crush on Scott. <em>Had. </em>As in past tense. He had a girlfriend now and she had a boyfriend so the idea was just silly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asked, clearly concerned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded. “Just had too much to drink.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott cocked his head and there was another moment… Tessa caught herself staring at Scott’s lips. Scott’s breathing had turned uneven. Tessa had shifted just a bit closer when Scott broke the spell and reluctantly offered her a hand. “We should get you back to Matt then.” He said, eyes trained on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If Matt had missed Tessa, he certainly didn’t let on. He was busy talking to some blonde girl that Tessa didn’t know when they’d found him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, man.” Scott had said, wanting to start a conversation with him to ease Tessa back into things. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matt barely acknowledged him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he reached out and took Tessa’s hand, pulling her toward him and away from Scott. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s head out.” He said without asking her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s face grew red with further embarrassment as Matt treated her this way in front of Scott. But Scott didn’t say anything. He reached out and touched her arm platonically. “I’ll see you tomorrow, T. Drink some water.” He said softly, turning and making his way back to the kitchen. The blonde followed him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on.” Matt said, pulling Tessa by the arm out of the house as her gaze followed the back of Scott’s head until he disappeared. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They made their way to the car without a word, and as Matt drove home, the silence broken only by the radio. Tessa leaned her head on the window and cried once more. Matt never noticed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Practice was rough the next day. Tessa was tired and emotionally drained from the previous night and her legs fucking hurt and she didn’t want to go home to her boyfriend who was coming over later that evening. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott could tell something was off the entire morning, so, come lunch time, he’d worked up the courage to say something. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sometimes Tessa didn’t take it well when he suggested something might be off with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” He asked as they sat at a table in the lobby of the rink, Tessa staring down at her salad while Scott tore the crust off his pb&amp;j. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa glared at him. “Fine.” She said flatly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott took a bite of his sandwich. “You seem like maybe something’s bothering you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shook her head. “Not really.” She sighed, flicking a few cherry tomatoes around.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not really? But like… kind of?” Scott asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stared at her salad for a long moment. “It’s just Matt.” She said, looking up at him sadly. “I just… sometimes I don’t understand why he treats me… like…” She found herself getting emotional, and her face flushed red with embarrassment. This was not the place for tears. If any of their competitors saw her crying she’d be seen as <em>weak</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott had set his sandwich down on the brown paper bag it had come in and was reaching for her hand. Tessa stared at it for a moment before taking a deep breath and exhaling shakily. “I’m sorry, I just…” She got up without explanation and walked off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott sat there for a moment, staring at his hand confusedly before following after her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was making her way to the women’s locker room so she could duck into a bathroom stall and hide her impending tears, but Scott had begun to jog and caught her arm just before she’d made it, pulling her into a hockey locker room instead and closing the door behind them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa crossed her arms over her chest, breathing in the smell of stale sweat. She plopped down on the hard wooden black-painted bench that lined the entire perimeter wall save for where the door opened. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott watched her for a moment, and when it was clear she wasn’t going to continue her earlier thoughts, he piped up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t like the way he treats you.” He said. “He doesn’t respect you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s face flushed red immediately, tears stinging her eyes. It hurt to hear it out loud, especially from Scott. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott stared at the ground, shuffling his feet nervously. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know why you don’t leave him.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looked up at him. “It’s not always like that.” She said, a tear slipping down her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott didn’t say anything, and eventually Tessa let out a defeated sigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just thought ... you’re always with someone. I thought I should be too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott scratched his head. “Tess, it’s not a competition.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No - I … didn’t mean it that way, I just thought maybe it would be nice if - If I had someone.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott waited a moment, digesting her words before nodding slowly. “But why him?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugged. Truthfully, he treated her the way she felt she deserved to be treated. She wanted someone to be nice to her, she really did, but she didn’t feel like she deserved it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can leave him.” Scott said. “You can do so much better, T.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott waited a moment before taking a deep breath and asking her the question that had been weighing heavily on his mind of late. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have you... um…” He gestured toward her body. He knew he shouldn’t be asking this question, that it wasn’t really any of his business, but he needed to know. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have we had sex?” She asked, eyes brimming with tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looked down at his feet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a long moment of silence where Scott felt like he’d been stabbed in the chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” She said, finally, and his head whipped up to look at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He could breathe again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He touches me sometimes.” She said shyly. “It hurts.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The expression on Scott’s face spoke volumes. Her pain was his pain. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grasped the fabric of his pants for something to hold on to. “It shouldn’t hurt.” He said sadly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa couldn’t help wincing as she felt a tears slip from the corner of her eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott winced and sat down beside her, swinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into his chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s not good to you.” He said. “He doesn’t love you right.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa turned her head and pressed it against Scott’s chest, her hand gripping his shirt. “Would you?” She asked, her voice muffled. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s heart was pounding. He lowered his cheek to the top of her head. “Of course I would.” He whispered. “If we were together, I would.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa took a deep breath. “I wish I knew what that felt like.” She said softly. “To have someone be good to me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They sat there in silence for a long while, Scott’s arms still around her, running up and down her arm, Tessa’s head resting on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I could show you.” Scott whispered, breaking the silence. “If you wanted.” He cleared his throat. “You know, just you’d know.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s breath hitched in her throat and she gripped his shirt tighter. “I think I would like that.” She whispered. “I would like to know.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t cheating. They were partners. They touched each other all over. This was no different, they would just be touching in different places. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott swallowed hard. “The first thing I would do is kiss you.” He said quietly, using his free hand to tilt her face up to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott leaned in slowly. Tessa stayed stalk still, her heart beating out of her chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that ok?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blinked rapidly and nodded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott started slowly, kissing the few tears she’d let fall from her cheeks. They’d done that before. They kissed on the cheek all the time. They’d even kissed on the lips once off ice. But when Scott’s lips found Tessa’s this time, it was different. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This time his lips sucked on hers, slotting between them, and she found herself pressing back, her hand on his chest, and his lowering to her back, running across the waistline of her pants, his fingers skimming just under her shirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, Tessa felt his tongue slipping gently across her lips, waiting for her permission. This was so different from things with Matt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Matt would prod at her mouth with his tongue hard and demanding. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She opened her lips slightly and their tongues danced together gently. Scott tasted so very nice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They stayed like that for a while, just kissing, before Scott’s hand had worked its way to the junction of Tessa’s hip and thigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pulled away briefly, and Tessa whimpered softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is this alright?” He asked, his hand moving between her legs.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded, pressing her lips back against his. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She felt that ache between her legs, the one she never got with Matt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Scott began to touch her over her leggings, and even though it was through two layers of fabric, it was better than anything Tessa had ever experienced. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She inadvertently let out a soft moan, right into Scott’s mouth, and he found himself pulling at his pants with his free hand, adjusting them uncomfortably. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that alright?” He asked her, having pulled away once more to check. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His heart was racing and the sight of her only made him harder in his pants. All he wanted was to show her how she could feel. How she should feel. How anyone she was with should treat her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded, her hand closing around Scott’s wrist between her legs. “Please.” She whispered, and Scott groaned as he pressed his lips back to hers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa started rocking against his hand, gripping him to keep herself under control. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their shared breath was hot between them as Tessa had pulled back, panting, her head back on Scott’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott leaned down then and nudged her head upright with his nose, allowing him access to her neck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He sucked gently, and then a bit harder, and Tessa let out a little squeal and shuddered, her hands grasping for him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When she came it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. It was like a tsunami had rolled through her body from her head to her toes, washing everything bad away, leaving her foaming and fizzling. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The two were silent then for a time before Scott withdrew his hand from the warmth between her legs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyway.” He said. “That’s what I would do.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded and stood up, fixing her hair. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her cheeks were flushed red, and her eyes darted down to the bulge in Scott’s pants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He covered it with his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was nice.” She said, still breathless. “I’m just going to … go finish lunch.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott joined her back at their table ten minutes later, and it was like nothing had even happened. He teased her about the way she chewed carrots.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But as they re-tied their skates in the penalty box, Tessa pressed against him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you.” She whispered in his ear, before standing and making her way onto the ice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It sent shivers all throughout Scott’s body. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A day later, Tessa had broken up with her boyfriend. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Boundaries</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Things between Tessa and Scott lately had been a little more … charged. </span>
  <span class="s1">Their programs were intensely intimate and often they found themselves craving <em>more</em> from each other after practice. </span>
  <span class="s1">They looked at it as bonding. It was - at least somewhat. </span>
  <span class="s1">Ever since Scott had touched Tessa in the locker room, they’d each found it extremely difficult to abstain from touching in that manner. </span>
  <span class="s1">It brought them closer as partners. Much closer. And it helped their performance on the ice. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They had rules. Truthfully, they were barely allowed to touch each other, and they <em>never</em> had sex. Tessa had never seen Scott come. She didn’t mind iit, but she thought it might be nice to focus on him at some point. She couldn’t deny that she was curious to see what he looked like. She’d felt him countless times, hard against her thigh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott, for his part, found himself faced with the challenge of keeping to himself every time they were together. Tessa was two years younger than he and, from what he knew, far less experienced. He didn’t want to take advantage of that. He didn’t want to violate the trust between them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tonight, all Tessa needed was Scott’s thigh. </span>
  <span class="s1">He sat back on the sofa and Tessa perched on his lap so she could feel the pressure of his leg between hers. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott ran a hand over the slope of her back, looking up at her with eyes darker than usual. He looked like he wanted to say something but he was just panting, breathing hard. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolled her hips when she couldn’t stand the pressure any longer, she shuddered against him, pressing forward and against his chest so he could wrap her in his arms and cradle her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” He whispered to her. “Whatever you need, T. Take your time.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She whimpered and squirmed a bit before pushing back off his chest and rocking slowly on his leg. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott watched, fully captivated by her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He stroked her hair back so he could get a full view of her face. He loved to see the way her eyes fluttered and her lips quivered. He loved to watch the moment those sweet little noises she made forced themselves from her mouth. He loved to watch how her cheeks grew flushed afterward, as if she were embarrassed. As if it wasn’t the most beautiful thing Scott had ever seen. </span>
  <span class="s1">He touched her as much as he could without making her uncomfortable. He knew where their boundaries were. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A hand on her back was fine, a hand on her ass, even, but slipping his hand under her shirt was a no. Any sort of teasing the waistband of her pants was good, would make her rock faster, pant harder, but slipping down any further was disallowed. </span>
  <span class="s1">He could touch her though the fabric of her pants, but nothing more. Tonight, he abstained in the interest of playing it safe because she was wearing a skirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rested her forehead on Scott’s shoulder. “Scott.” She breathed, her warm breath right in his ear, her hands gripping his shirt tightly. He wished she would pull it off of him. He was getting unbearably hot with her over him like that, and he was painfully hard in his pants, though he wouldn’t touch himself. He wouldn’t do it unless he knew for certain that’s what she wanted, and they’d never discussed it. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’d melt right here on the sofa if it meant he could watch Tess this way. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was something so fucking erotic about Tessa, perfect Tessa virtue, sweet and innocent, prim and proper Tessa Virtue, losing control on top of him and just grinding on his leg like she couldn’t help herself. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott’s cock was throbbing now, and Tessa was mewling sweetly. </span>
  <span class="s1">He reached up and caressed her face, prompting her to look down at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Fuck</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Her pupils were blown wide, making the emerald green of her eyes a few lusty shades darker, and her eyelids were hooded, lashes fluttering with each thrust of her hips. </span>
  <span class="s1">Her skirt was airy with a pale pink and white floral print, and normally it would suit Tessa perfectly, but the woman writhing on his thigh, he thought to himself, was behaving in a manner far too naughty for floral print. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smirked. He loved it. He loved that only <em>he</em> got to see this side of her. Sure, she acted it insome of their programs. It drove him insane. But <em>he</em> was the only one that got to see that maybe it wasn’t all an act. Tessa contained multitudes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hadn’t had a boyfriend since Matt, and Scott liked that just fine. He was still dating his girlfriend, though he didn’t tell her about these - uh - team bonding sessions. He figured since they weren’t actually touching it was alright. They barely even kissed. They’d discussed that maybe it wasn’t the best idea in case they happened to forget their boundaries on ice. Marina wouldn’t be happy. Neither would Scott’s girlfriend for that matter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Tessa was alright with things like this. She’d felt better in this quasi-partnership/friends-with-benefits deal than she’d ever felt with someone she’d dated. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Truthfully, the fact that Scott, two years older than her and far cooler, would even give her the time of day was exciting. She was sure he was doing it out of pity - he’d always looked out for her, and he must know that no other guys would want to be with her. Nobody else would treat her nicely, so at least she had Scott on odd days after practice to show her that she wasn’t completely worthless. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pressed his thumb to Tessa’s belly, fingering her navel piercing through her tight grey shirt. Tessa gasped and let out a wonton moan which had Scott’s dick twitching and leaking in his pants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck.” He groaned under his breath. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His free hand went back to grip her ass, pressing her harder against him and making her fall forward again, hot breath on his neck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Scott.” She whined. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That was new. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looked down at her, his hand moving to her back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You ok?” He asked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s face flushed red with embarrassment but she coudln’t help herself. She rocked harder. “I need more.” She pleaded. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s eyes grew wide. “Anything, Tess. Tell me.” He hardly recognised his own voice it was so absolutely wrecked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa took the hand he had resting on her thigh and brought it down between her legs and under her skirt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott inhaled sharply when she pressed his fingers to the soft silk panties she wore, and then moaned deeply when he felt the wetness that had pooled there. </span>
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t help bucking his hips, it was a visceral reaction, a reflex. His body was short-circuiting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please touch me.” She begged in such a way that Scott actually whimpered. It was all he’d wanted to do for so long now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa wanted this so much. She wanted him to feel her, to feel that she was just like the girls he slept with. Maybe then he’d see that she wasn’t so pathetic. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It fully violated the rules of their unspoken agreement, but Scott couldn’t have cared less. </span>
  <span class="s1">He traced her slit through the soft fabric with his middle finger, touching her gently, gauging her reaction. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’d shut her eyes, was biting her lip. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott was thrilled and terrified all at once. Truthfully he never thought he’d get to do this and he would hate himself if he did something to fuck it up or make her uncomfortable. </span>
  <span class="s1">He stayed there for a while, taking everything in, committing it to memory in the case that he’d never get to do this again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“More.” Tessa said, shaking him out of his daze. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“More?” He asked stupidly, kicking himself for sounding like such an idiot. He knew what she wanted he was just terrified. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chewed her lip. Was he disgusted? Was she asking too much. She’d already pushed the boundaries, no sense in turning back now, right? He could always say no. Matt had had no problem with that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pushed on his chest and pressed herself further against him, her nose against his cheek. </span>
  <span class="s1">“More.” She repeated, her voice demanding. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded and pressed his finger against her, rubbing slow circles. </span>
  <span class="s1">She bucked her hips, clutched his shirt, sighed his name. </span>
  <span class="s1">It was all Scott could do not to lose himself right then and there. </span>
  <span class="s1">His hand was shaking against her center as he began to move faster, desperate to make her come, dying to see it - the expression on her beautiful face, the shape of her pretty lips and the feel of her shuddering against him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that ok?” He managed to ask, his voice catching in his throat. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded, pressing her forehead against his. The shared breath between them grew hot and wet and soon Tessa’s lips were so close to his Scott could hardly stand it. </span>
  <span class="s1">He felt Tessa’s hand on his wrist now and he thought his heart might actually beat out of his chest as he felt her guide him past the waistband of her panties so that he could touch her directly. </span>
  <span class="s1">As soon as he did, they both moaned deeply into one another’s mouth, Scott’s tongue slipping past her lips to tangle with hers. </span>
  <span class="s1">She tasted so very sweet. He knew then that he would never be able to get enough of her. Never. </span>
  <span class="s1">And God, she was <em>so</em> <em>wet</em> against his hand. </span>
  <span class="s1">He rubbed her clit and she purred into his mouth as they kissed.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was so lost in the feeling that she could hardly process the kiss, but her lips moved of their own accord, drunk on the taste and the feeling, until… <em>oh God. </em>She realised she was kissing him. Had she been the one to initiate that? <em>Of course</em>, she thought, <em>Why would he want to kiss me? Fuck, fuck fuck.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott would have stayed like that forever, but Tessa jerked back suddenly, her hands fisting his shirt. He missed her lips against his as she buried her face in his neck and came with a long, low moan, shaking in his arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Fuck</em>.” Scott said “<em>Fuck</em>, Tessa.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was still shaking as he withdrew his hand, sticky and wet with her arousal, and she watched with wide eyes as he slid his fingers into his mouth to taste her, groaning as he did so. He savoured the taste, his eyes closed as he sucked his fingers. </span>
  <span class="s1">This was new territory. They were making up rules as they went along, and Scott was pretty sure that one was borderline, but he would have done anything for more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s breath was shaky as she watched Scott pull his fingers from his mouth. Had she imagined that? <em>What was that?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After a minute, Tessa she couldn’t help but settle back against him, hugging him around the neck as she caught her breath. Scott hands were on her back, running across her in slow sweeping movements. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>He’s too good to me.</em> She thought to herself. <em>Nobody is ever this good to me. I don’t deserve it.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The obvious answer was that he was doing it to improve their partnership and, therefore, their skating. It was a weird kind of symbiotic relationship. But she was benefitting more than he because better skating was in her interest as well. She needed to do more. </span>
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t hard to convince herself of that. She desperately <em>wanted </em>more. She wanted to touch him all over and hide behind her reasoning. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soon, her hands were working the button of his jeans and pulling at the zipper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He stilled her. “You don’t have to.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott desperately wanted her to touch him butdidn’t want her to feel like she had to repay him in any way. He didn’t want her to do this because she felt she had to. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa halted her movements, feeling dejected. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” Scott reassured her, stroking her hair. “We can just lay here.” He suggested, “Watch a movie.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chewed her lip. He didn’t want her to touch him. B</span>
  <span class="s1">ut she wanted to see him. Would that be too much to ask as well?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to watch.” She said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nodded and turned to grab his laptop from his bedside table, figuring he’d let her pick a movie while he went and sorted himself out in the bathroom. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tessa said, and Scott turned back. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I want to watch <em>you</em>.” She clarified.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott pushed his hair back nervously. “Watch - watch me?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nodded shyly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughed and immediately regretted it when he saw her face colour. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Oh, Tess, I thought you were ... you’re serious?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She nodded again. “I’m sorry.” She said softly. “That’s weird. I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott stared for a moment, unsure that this was really real, before snapping himself out of it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No uh... if that’s what you want...”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just think you’re... I think you’re beautiful.” She said quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was speechless. Tessa was calling <em>him </em>beautiful. </span>
  <span class="s1">Nobody had ever called him beautiful before, and this was <em>Tessa, </em>a study in beautiful as far as he was concerned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa winced at the silence. “Sorry.” She said again, her stomach dropping through the floor. “It’s weird, I’m sorry, I’m just going to go -“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Scott said, reaching out for her. “No, come here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hesitated before giving in, letting him take her in his arms for a hug. </span>
  <span class="s1">“<em>You’re</em> beautiful.” He told her. He squeezed her hand and the two just looked at each other for a moment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>He’s just saying that. That’s just something he says. </em>She told herself. It hadn’t been the first time Scott had called her beautiful and she knew he must just be saying it to make her feel better or to pay back a compliment. She was convinced that was the only reason he said things like that to her, because she <em>wasn’t </em>beautiful. Nobody thought she was beautiful, not really, that was just something people were supposed to say after a competition when you were wearing a pound of makeup and all zipped up in silk and tulle and sequins. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa took a deep breath, shaking her thoughts back into submission before her eyes wandered down to the bulge in Scott’s pants, her hand coming to rest firmly on his breastbone. </span>
  <span class="s1">He watched her watching him for a moment, unsure whether he felt more aroused or self conscious. </span>
  <span class="s1">So he took a deep breath and unbuttoned his pants, freeing his cock from his underwear and watching her expression soften as he did so. </span>
  <span class="s1">He smiled at the way she was so focused on him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was the first time she’d seen him, and she wasn’t disappointed. Though, she knew from the feel of him that she wouldn’t be. She’d only ever seen one penis before; Matt’s. His was curved to the right and wrinkly at the top. Scott’s was different - not curved, not wrinkly. It looked beautiful, just like him. </span>
  <span class="s1">She watched entranced as his hand began to glide easily over himself, and the hand Tessa had on his chest massaged him gently, raking her nails over his skin every so often to make him shiver. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He couldn’t take his eyes off her now, the way she was so focused on his movements, the way her mouth was just slightly ajar, like she too caught up in watching him to even think of anything else. </span>
  <span class="s1">He worked his hand faster as he felt his arousal building, and Tessa’s hand fell to his thigh, her nails digging through the fabric of his pants and into his skin, forcing a small moan from him. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott’s breath was shaky now and he wanted to taste her lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He whispered, and she looked up at him dutifully, her eyes big as saucers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Kiss me?” He hoped it wasn’t too much to ask. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa swallowed dryly. </span>
  <span class="s1"><em>Why? </em>She wanted to ask him. <em>What do you want me to kiss you for? </em></span>
  <span class="s1">Instead, she nodded and leaned forward until she could press her lips to his, her hand returning to his chest, resting just over his heart. </span>
  <span class="s1"><em>He must want to think about someone else. He must not want to look at me. </em>She thought. Her self hated was incessant. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She pulled back after a while, unable to continue kissing him. It made her too sad. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She was nothing to him but an extension of himself. He needed her like he needed his legs; to achieve his goals. Otherwise he surely wouldn’t give her the time of day. If they weren’t partners, he wouldn’t spare her a passing glance. She was sure of it. But she still couldn’t help what she felt for him. He was the only person that understood things the way she did. He understood how hard things were, how homesick she felt, he stood up for her, even. She wanted to pleasure him, to give him back something that he’d given her, but if he didn’t want her to touch him then she wouldn’t. She slipped off the bed to kneel before him. He watched her, his hand still working himself, as she rested her head on his thigh, looking up at him before returning her gaze to his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>You have so much power over </em>me. She thought to herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott could feel her hot breath on his cock and he thought he might actually pass out. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He said, desperately, “I’m going to— I’m going to come.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa leaned forward, a hand on each of his thighs now, eyes still focused on him. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Show me.” She said, a soft challenge. She wanted to see it, what he looked like when he came. He could only be more beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He came so hard at that he saw stars. He was sure he was making some ungodly sounds but he couldn’t help it as he felt his body convulse at the release. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Fuck.” He swore as he came back to reality. He’d fallen back onto the bed and was laying on his back with Tessa, who’d crawled back up, sprawled out beside him. His come was soaking through his shirt, but he couldn’t have cared less in that moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turned his face to her and nuzzled her nose. </span>
  <span class="s1">They lay in silence for some time, each of them too afraid to move, too afraid to address what had just happened between them. This had been far more intense than usual, and neither of them wanted to think about the fact that it just made them both want more.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I should go.” Tessa said, breaking the silence first. She was sure he wanted to be rid of her now, now that their little training session was over. What good was she doing him just laying there?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott wanted to protest, but couldn’t bring himself to say the words. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He worried that it had gone too far. Maybe he shouldn’t have asked her to kiss him. Maybe she regretted the whole encounter. She certainly seemed eager to get out of there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you tomorrow.” She said, smiling weakly. It was just something they said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiled back. “Tomorrow.” He nodded.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A Month and Some Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A month. She’d gone a whole month after her surgery without talking to Scott. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s done a lot of growing in that time, and in the time since. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s whole world had been flipped upside down and she was faced with the possibility that the only thing that provided her a sense of true joy in life might be taken away from her at the betrayal of her own body. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’d been lower than low. She’d been depressed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She couldn’t skate, so she’d <em>thought</em>. And she’d thought with such clarity that things that once seemed to twist her mind up into a frightened little ball no longer did. She had to find a way to tether her self-worth to something other than her skating, because otherwise, if surgery weren’t to work out, she’d truly be left with nothing. </span>
  <span class="s1">And the fact that Scott had essentially ignored her for an entire month after the procedure had her rethinking her relationship with him as well. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She deserved better. She knew that now. She’d allowed people to mistreat her because she felt so unimportant. She realised that being with Scott hadn’t done a single thing to help her in that arena. Their relationship - whatever that meant - had been a literal secret. And not the secret as in not telling the press, but a secret in that Scott had a <em>girlfriend</em>. Tessa was just his skating partner who sometimes got him off. That wasn’t good for her self esteem either. She wanted more than that for herself. Not to mention it was morally reprehensible. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott liked to criticise every single guy she dated. In reality though, he wouldn’t even touch her in public when they weren’t on ice. That had to have affected her, too. Scott was always saying guys didn’t deserve her, they didn’t love her the right way, they didn’t treat her right, and he’d claim he would, but letting him touch her in secret wasn’t good enough for her anymore. It just wasn’t. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She would have done <em>anything</em> he’d wanted. And she’d still do anything for him, if he needed it. They were partners in the end, and they did, Tessa believed, truly care for one another. But they she couldn’t continue to be the other girl. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott hadn’t even felt her worthy of going through the trouble to send her even a simple text message, apparently. Maybe he really had only seen her as a way to better himself. Maybe because she’d been out of commission, he’d wanted nothing to do with her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa had accepted that it was a possibility. And though it was heartbreakingly painful, it helped her come into her own. </span>
  <span class="s1">She was her own individual person and she didn’t <em>need</em> Scott. She simply <em>wanted</em> him. And if he didn’t want her back, then it wasn’t meant to be. </span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A month. Scott doesn’t like to think about it. He’d gone a whole month without speaking to Tessa. It had been awful. He hadn’t known what to say. He’d always been able to help her fix things, but this had been out of his power. What if she could never skate again? He finds the idea of himself skating with another partner preposterous. Repulsive, actually. He couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he admits that this made him mad. He’d been angry that Tessa had gone and left him up in the air. And he knows that’s ridiculous as well. Of course it wasn’t her fault. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has trouble directing his anger sometimes, and he knows how personally Tessa takes things like that. And he knows how much pain she’s in and all the sacrifices she’s made for him, and she’s made so <em>so</em> many. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What could he do? He couldn’t give her new legs. He could never pay her back for all of the things she’s given up for him. He feels like he takes advantage of her generosity. In fact, he knows he does. It makes him feel sick with guilt and he knows avoidance wasn’t the way to deal with it, but he couldn’t bring himself to call her. He couldn’t text her, even. He’d done his best to stop thinking about her but - as always - it’s an impossible task. Everything reminds him of her and that, too, made him angry. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Things with Tessa had been fine before she left. She’d been positive about the whole procedure. They’d been in a good place. They were close. He could touch her and feel the way her body instinctually moulded to his. He could hear her sigh a certain way and know exactly what it meant - hunger, fatigue, frustration, helplessness, <em>pleasure</em>. He could touch her heart and sync its beat with his, lean closer to feel the way it sent life pulsing through her neck. He could tell when she had a headache, or leg pain or even her period. He could tell when she needed a hug. He could tell when she was lost in her thoughts and he could tell when they turned on her and she needed to be pulled from them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But while she was gone, he’d started to face the scary possibilities. What if they could no longer be partners? He and Tessa were such different people on paper. Scott was absolutely convinced that Tessa would want nothing to do with him if they couldn’t skate together. And why should she? She was smart, well read, classy. Scott didn’t feel he was <em>any</em> of those things. Sometimes Tessa would use a word he didn’t know just casually, and Scott would pretend out of embarrassment he knew what it meant. It wasn’t until later when he looked it up on his own that he’d find out if he’d responded appropriately. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he couldn’t remember the last time he’d read a book for the <em>enjoyment</em> of it. Tessa had her nose buried in a new book weekly. She was so lovely, too. She made everything she wore look amazing. Somehow she even made her practice clothes look elegant - Scott had heard girls at the rink jealously remarking about her clothes. And she was so beautiful. She was so, so beautiful Scott was certain that she’d want nothing to do with him if they hadn’t been partners. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he cared about her. He truly did. He <em>loved</em> her, even - <em>loves</em> her, as in present tense. He really might go so far as to say that. He’d certainly never been worried sick over any other girl in his life. He was still seeing his girlfriend, Nicole, and even now, even while Tessa had been gone (maybe even more than when she was around) he thought almost exclusively of her.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Tessa had returned, things had been rough. Scott could tell Tessa was being short with him. She hardly spoke to him, in fact. They waited and waited and finally, Tessa could take the ice again. She bounced back quickly, and Scott was endlessly grateful for and proud of her strength. </span>
  <span class="s1">But their partnership was left strained. There was always the weight of his absence weighing on things. So Marina, fed up with their foolishness, sent them to a marriage counselor. He’d actually helped them open up a bit and things had improved. </span>
  <span class="s1">They’d improved to the point that Scott finally felt it acceptable to go and apologize to Tessa in person, at her apartment. It was something they hadn’t done since before she’d left - been alone together.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So that’s how Scott found himself outside of Tessa’s apartment in Canton on a Sunday evening. He lamented the fact that they’d normally be snug inside, making each other laugh as they made Sunday dinner.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He took a long deep breath before reaching out and knocking at her door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Behind the solid forest-green painted door, he heard rustling and then a thud before the lock began to shimmy, and the door opened. </span>
  <span class="s1">There was Tessa, standing in the door as perfect as always. She looked older, Scott noted. She looked … mature. She looked … confident, maybe. </span>
  <span class="s1">She stared at him and he stood there dumbly, fluffy pink flowers in his hand. He wasn’t even sure what they were called, but he knew that they were Tessa’s favourites, so when he saw them in the florist’s he’d simply pointed to them and had them made into a big bouquet for her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa didn’t say a word, just stepped gingerly to the side to allow Scott through the door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.” He said, after she’d closed them inside. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.” She said back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I uh… got these for you.” He said, not offering them to her. “Are you alright?” She was favouring her right foot. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffed. “Now you care?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott hung his head. “Tess.” He said. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tears had already sprung to Tessa’s eyes. She hadn’t expected to have such a visceral reaction, but seeing Scott here in her apartment again made everything feel so <em>real</em> and so very painful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where were you?” She asked him. He knew what she meant. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t … I was … Tessa-“ Scott was trying to organise his thoughts, trying to find some way to explain that she’d meant so much to him that he’d actually been frightened to contact her, but he couldn’t find a way to put it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was selfish of me.” He said, truthfully. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Tessa said, flatly. “It was.” Tears danced in her eyes, but she willed them back with all the strength in her body. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can we please talk about this now?” He asked. They’d been skirting around it for weeks in therapy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looked at him incredulously. “<em>Now</em> you want to talk? <em>Now</em>, that for whatever random reason it’s convenient for you, you want to talk?” She shook her head. “You’re a real piece of work, Scott Moir.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She slipped into her kitchen and poured herself a glass of water. Scott flinched at the way she was walking. She was wearing sweats so he couldn’t see the scars on her legs, but if she was still in pain now, months, he hated to imagine how much pain she’d been in after surgery, hated to imagine that she was in pain every single day at practise. She hardly mentioned it to him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa didn’t offer him anything to drink, that’s how Scott knew she was furious with him. Tessa was always, <em>always</em> a generous host.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, I know it was awful of me, I know that, and I’m sorry, but-“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa cut him off, “But you’re here now, so it’s fine? Is that what you want to say to me? You’re here now so everything will be ok? That’s what you think, isn’t it? You think that you can care about me when it’s convenient for you, when nobody else has to know about it because I’m like the fucking pariah of the rink.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott wasn’t sure what <em>pariah </em>meant, but he made a mental note to look it up later. He assumed it <em>wasn’t good</em>. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sick of it! Do you know how much I hated myself? Do you know how much work I put in every day to excuse all of the awful ways people treated me? Did you ever bother to ask or did you just want to come over and touch me in secret and then go home to your girlfriend?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was a low blow, and Tessa knew it. She’d wanted him to touch her just as much as he’d wanted to do it, and the fact that he’d had a girlfriend, the damage it had been inflicting upon her self-worth was only clear to her after spending time away from Canton. It hadn’t been Scott’s intention to hurt her, she knew that, but she was so angry with him for not having even called her after surgery that she wanted him to hurt too. It was selfish of her, maybe, but she’d do <em>anything</em> for him, why couldn’t he have just called?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s arm dropped to his side, the flowers now hanging upside down in his hand. His face was contorted in a way that made Tessa think he might cry. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I would <em>never</em> have done that - I would never have touched you if you didn’t want me to. You said you wanted me … You always said … when I asked- Tess, I <em>always</em> asked … I <em>always</em> … did you not want that?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s face was red and his eyes were puffy. “Tessa, I would <em>never</em> have done that if you’d said you didn’t want it… <em>fuck</em>! <em>Fuck</em>, Tessa!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa jumps at the way he shouts it. He drops the flowers to the floor, his hands go to his hair. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, Scott,” Tessa begins, because he’s misunderstood. She hates herself all over again for making this so unclear, so painful to him. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It wasn’t that I didn’t want it.” She tells him. “I did. I wanted it. And <em>that</em> was the problem.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott takes a deep, shaking breath, relief flooding his racing mind. “What?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You treated me like this big <em>secret</em>.” Tessa says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well you always hate when anyone in interviews asks us about our relationship.” Scott counters. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You have a girlfriend!” Tessa shouts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you knew I did!” He yells. “You never asked me to do anything about it, I didn’t think you wanted me to, honestly, I thought you - I don’t know I thought you were <em>humouring</em> me!”</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">And truly, he had. </span>He’d thought she <em>liked</em> having him on the side, someone she could trust but also have an excuse to keep at an arms length - that’s what she’d always liked before. Something had clearly changed. Or maybe she’d never really felt that way. Maybe she’d just been afraid… </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I would have broken up with her.” Scott says quietly, sadly. He hadn’t thought Tessa had wanted to be <em>anything</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Whatever.” She says, her voice is high as she makes her best effort not to cry. If he had wanted to break up with his girlfriend, that’s what he would have done. It hadn’t been completely Scott’s fault that her feelings had been hurt. Tessa recognises that she shares blame there, maybe even bares most of it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This isn’t even about that, Scott. You didn’t even care enough about me to <em>text</em> me while I was gone.” She says, suddenly very eager to change the subject. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I fucking tried, Tess!” He shouts. “I tried so many times but I was just … I don’t know I was mad at you for leaving and I know that makes no sense but I was and I fucking feel like -“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She interrupts him before he can continue, “You were mad at <em>me</em>? You were mad at me for leaving to go get my legs cut open so I could skate with you? So we can go to the olympics? You were really mad at <em>me</em>?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It almost feels good to be so candid with each other. In therapy every conversation they have seems so clinical, so preconceived that it’s freeing to be able to improvise. </span>
  <span class="s1">But Scott has never heard Tessa shouting like this. He realises he’s shaking. He covers his face with his hands. “Not mad, that’s the wrong word. I just didn’t know how to handle it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You didn’t know how to handle me going to get surgery, so you just ignored the fact that it was happening? What did you think, you’d just come down here and everything would be fine, just the way you left it? Oh, I’m sorry, that’s probably exactly what you thought, isn’t it? I’m just your little side project, aren’t I? I don’t even exist if there’s nothing I can offer you!” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s not true and you know it!” Scott shouts it so loudly his words echo through the kitchen. He can’t believe she would ever even say that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just leave!” She shouts at him, and Scott can see the little ripples her voice makes in the glass of water she has set on the counter next to her. “Please!” She’s crying now and Scott can’t take it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me explain myself!” He shouts, probably too aggressively, but he needs her to hear him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott, <em>leave</em>!” She shouts again, her arm flying out and hitting the glass of water, knocking it off the counter and sending it to the floor, water and glass shards flying everywhere. “<em>Leave</em>!” She shrieks, furious that she’s done something so clumsy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Scott, furious as well, at both her and himself, throws the flowers into the mess of glass and water and storms out of the apartment, slamming the door shut behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stands there in shock. She hates herself for the things she’s said. She clasps a hand to her mouth and sinks to the floor, beginning to sob, her breath coming in short, sharp bursts, the glass jingles and crunches beneath her weight, but she can’t be bothered with it now. </span>
  <span class="s1">All she feels is the empty hole Scott’s left inside of her. She picks the flowers up from the floor, and hugs them to her chest. And just when she feels as though her ribs will burst open and all of the hurt will overflow and wreck her completely, her front door creaks back open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He didn’t say a word until he was on the floor with her, pushing the glass out of the way, making sure none of it has pierced her skin. He sees blood by her wrist, a small prick from a large shard by her side. He pushes it away and gathers her in his arms, pulls her hand toward him to kiss the little bead of red that's emerged from her scrape away. He repeats the action for good measure. Then he strokes the hair off of her wet face and presses his lips to her temple while one of her hands knots in his shirt, holding on desperately, the flowers pressed between them. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” He assures her. “I’ve got you.” He always had. His voice is so gentle now that it soothes her. She closes her eyes and clutches the flowers tighter, the plastic wrapping crinkling against her. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She whimpers, her face buried in his shoulder as she grabs more of his shirt with her free hand. “I shouldn’t have yelled like that.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott runs a hand over her back. It’s the first time he’s held her like this in so long, and they both realise then how much they needed it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>I’m</em> sorry.” He says back into her hair. “Don’t be sorry. <em>I’m</em> sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled like that either, and you have every right to be mad. I was a coward and an asshole and you didn’t deserve that, T. You don’t deserve it.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels strange to hear him say those words about himself instead of someone she’s dating, but somehow it makes her feel better. She inhales sharply and exhales shakily as he rocks her gently, hiding his own tears by sporadically turning his face into his shoulder, wiping them away on the sleeve of his t-shirt. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gives Tessa a moment before saying softly, “I feel guilty that you decided to dance with me instead of doing ballet. Maybe your legs wouldn’t hurt if you did ballet.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sniffles and wipes at her eyes, looking up at him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>She’s beautiful like this</em>, Scott thinks to himself. <em>She’s so beautiful and so wonderful exactly as she is. </em>He hates that idea that she'd ever undervalue herself or feel otherwise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>chose</em> to dance with you. That was my <em>choice</em>.” Tessa tells him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chews his lip. “I just feel like … maybe you did this for me? I don’t know if that sounds egotistical - I don't mean it that way but I just feel like you’re so - um - <em>nice</em> Tess, and I see people take advantage of that all the time and I’m afraid - I’m afraid maybe I did.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I would do anything for you. </em>Tessa thinks. But <em>she’d</em> wanted to continue with ice dance. Nine year old Tessa hadn’t needed much time for a decision, and eighteen year old Tessa would make the same decision all over again, even if her injury were to end her career.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe it had <em>something</em> to do with you.” She tells him. “Maybe you were a <em>factor</em>, but only because you were someone I wanted to grow and compete with.” She tells him. “I wanted you on my team. I wanted to be on your team. I thought we could be <em>unstoppable</em> together. ” She pauses for a moment and tilts her head to look up at Scott who has tears running down his cheeks now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I still do.” Tessa adds softly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott hugs her tighter and nods. “I’m so sorry Tess.” He tells her. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. I’m so sorry for everything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We can fix it.” She says, nodding. And Scott looks down at her, hopeful. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’ll fix it.” She tells him. “We’ll fix everything. Not you, not <em>just</em> you - <em>us</em>. Together.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Together.” Scott repeats. They will. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Clementines</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Things were different moving forward. Like Tessa’s legs, they’d needed to hash themselves open, bleed out, and sew themselves back up together to become stronger. They’d been stunted there pretending everything was fine when each of them ached so greatly beneath the surface. They’d stopped touching each other, Scott had continued to see his girlfriend, they’d gone back to being platonic partners, and neither was thrilled at that. But Tessa had been right, they had fixed things, and they’d done it together.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They’d managed to get themselves to the Olympics. They’d managed to <em>win </em>the Olympics. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott stood there on the podium with Tessa by his side, each of them swelling with pride for one another, for themselves. Tessa had done it in pain. </span>
  <span class="s1">As they stood there, Scott could feel Tessa shaking with excitement beside him. </span>
  <span class="s1">She angled her face up toward him, beaming despite the feeling in her legs, and she asked shyly, “Can I hold your hand?” </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott nearly melted. And then he hated himself because in what world was Tessa living in that she felt it might not be ok to hold his hand? </span>
  <span class="s1">He took her hand in his and squeezed it reassuringly. He felt her breathing slow and soon their medals were hung heavily around their necks and they were singing the national anthem. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Months passed after that, Tessa had another surgery, one Scott made sure he was there for. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s called polyamory.” Scott says one Sunday afternoon as they lounge in Tessa’s apartment, sat at her kitchen table with their laptops in front of them. Scott runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. “It’s this thing where two people can have relationships and then also see someone on the side that nobody has to know about.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa scoffed “That’s called infidelity.” She informs him, pressing her reading glasses up higher on her nose. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It wasn’t anything new to them, but Tessa was not going to pretend it was ok for Scott to cheat on his girlfriend with her under some guise of quasi-polyamory. That wasn’t how it worked and Scott knew it too.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No, no! Like, the main partner knows what’s going on and - and they’re good with it, they just don’t necessarily need to know who it’s going on <em>with.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes and Scott sighs. It isn’t what he wants either. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s really not as complicated as it sounds.” He tells her anyway, not fully believing it himself, and Tessa’s sure she’d be a billionaire if she had a penny for every time someone told her that. </span>
  <span class="s1">Whether it was a math problem or a lift or some bit of choreography or a recipe for chocolate cake, or her relationship with Scott, Tessa knows from experience that it usually <em>is</em> always as complicated as it sounds. More complicated, even. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She thinks of Scott’s past girlfriends, but decides not to mention any by name. “Do you really think anyone you’re seeing would be ok with that?” She asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t say anything, just keeps his eyes trained on his open laptop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Did you know Canada is home to the world’s northern-most permanently occupied settlement?” Tessa asks, glancing up at Scott, trying to change the subject, clear the air. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He takes a minute, but shakes his head, still not looking up at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She sighs. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want to be someone’s <em>side</em> relationship.” She says. “Scott, we’ve talked about this. I don’t want to be someone’s <em>sometimes</em>.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It had taken her a long time to arrive at this conclusion. She had to think about her future happiness. It was something novel she’d started thinking about lately. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks up at her, meeting her eyes with a fierceness she saw only rarely. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I don’t want that either, Tessa.” He says, voice gruff. “And I know you deserve more than that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She can’t help the feeling of guilt that seeps into her mind. </span>
  <span class="s1">She doesn't want to make him feel badly for their previous arrangement. She was just as complicit as he was, more so, maybe, she thinks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott likes his girlfriend, but she’s nothing like Tessa. She’s not Tessa. He misses Tess. He misses being with her as intimately as they’d once been. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa stares up at him, eyes shimmering in the late afternoon light. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s hands shake at his sides as he clenches and unclenches them and shuts his eyes tightly as he works up the courage to speak. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Kiss me, Tessa.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">And he waits. He waits in a silence so agonising he has to break it. “Please.” He adds, not above begging. Not above anything where Tessa is concerned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">But there is more silence. Scott can’t handle it. </span>
  <span class="s1">He opens his eyes to see her. Her eyes are closed as tightly as his had been, as she sits in front of him. </span>
  <span class="s1">He knows he shouldn’t touch her, and he won’t. Even if it tears him to shreds inside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He rasps. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She opens her eyes and looks up at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>Please don’t make me say it again.</em> He thinks, but he does anyway. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Kiss me. Please.” He breathes shakily. “<em>Please</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He sees her wince. “I can’t, Scott.” She says softly, reaching out and touching his chest, just over his heart. It feels as though she’s driven a stake right through it. </span>
  <span class="s1">But it’s his fault, isn’t it? He's was the one in a relationship. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“But...” he trails off sounding like a child. “I want you so much.” He admits, finally.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens slightly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>Scott wants me. </em>She thinks. <em>He wants me. </em>It’s everything she’s wanted for so long but she’s changed now. She’s not that scared little girl that will be there for him whenever it’s convenient. No. If he has a girlfriend, he has a girlfriend. She can’t be anything but his partner. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head, tears dancing in her eyes. “I can’t do that again, Scott.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It’s a few days later when Scott tells Tess that he broke up with his girlfriend. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t kiss her, doesn’t try to. It’s not why he did it, and he makes that clear. The two of them are partners first, and they take that seriously. Neither of them tries to address that conversation they had weeks before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">It’s not until one sweltering night in the summer that that changes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott slides his key into Tessa’s door and hears the bolt turn over. He opens it with ease, taking care to slip his muddy shoes off and leave them on the mat outside. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He shouts.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Kitchen!” She shouts right back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">The power has gone out thanks to a bout of strong winds from the west. The clouds outside are ominous, and it looks like it might rain. Scott hopes it will soon, just to cut the stifling humidity now that none of their air conditioners are working. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">As he pads into Tessa’s kitchen, Scott’s overcome with the smell of citrus. It’s sweet and summery, and somehow seems to fit the mood. </span>
  <span class="s1">When his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, Scott breaks into a smile at the scene before him; candles scattered about the room, Tessa sprawled out on the little rug she kept in front of her kitchen sink, sporting only a white halter bra and a pair of pyjama shorts, her arms stretched out over her head, T-shirt pulled off and forgotten on the floor to her right, next to a box of clementines. There are discarded peels at her feet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Rough afternoon?” He asks, holding back his laughter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa groans. “It’s <em>so</em> hot.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott lowers himself to the floor, sitting criss cross on the opposite side of the rug and pulling her feet into his lap. "</span>
  <span class="s1">You <em>are</em> hot.” He says. Tessa’s feet were almost always cold, even in the summer, but tonight they’re burning up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Mh.” Tessa mumbles, draping an arm across her forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I was going to make dinner…” He says, “but since the power’s out,” Scott runs his hands over her calves. “I have an idea.” He says, setting her feet back on the ground and ignoring the little whine she gives him at the loss of his touch. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He takes a candle and brings it with him so he can see as he goes to fill her bathtub up with cool water. </span>
  <span class="s1">He leaves the candle there and returns to Tessa, who is rolling a clementine through her hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Up you go.” Scott grunts as he bends to slip his arms under her and lift her up. </span>
  <span class="s1">Her muscles are loose, relaxed, as he lifts her, and he wonders if it’s from the heat. </span>
  <span class="s1">He carries her into the bathroom and sets her down on her feet by the tub. </span>
  <span class="s1">He watches her smile grow as he pulls his shirt off, climbing in and holding a hand out for her.She sheds her shorts without hesitation, revealing a neon green thong that piques Scott’s interest, and takes his hand to let him help her into the water, settling back against the cool porcelain on the side opposite Scott. </span>
  <span class="s1">Their legs tangle somewhere in the middle of the tub and Tessa lets out a deep sigh of relief at the cool water against her skin as she lowers herself further into the tub, her right foot coming to press on Scott’s chest as she sets her clementine on the tub’s edge. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott smirks at her and rests a hand lazily on her ankle. </span>
  <span class="s1">The sweet summer air laced with the scent of freshly cut grass sun-baked tar and wafts in from the open window in the corner and Scott thinks he can smell the scent of impending rain.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Thank God.” Tessa sighs again feeling the heat within her begin to flow out into the cool water. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Smarter than I look, eh, T?” He joke at his own expense. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tsks him and pushes her foot further into his sternum. She doesn't like when he puts himself down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles playfully and grabs her ankle, pulling it and causing her to slip deeper into the tub. She lets out a yelp and then a loud giggle as she struggles to free herself from his grasp. When he lets go, she pushes herself up out of the water and notices Scott’s mouth open and close as he looks away for a moment, taking a deep breath and then turning back to her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa glances down, realising that her white bra has been turned transparent by the water and her nipples are now clearly visible through the fabric. </span>
  <span class="s1">She considers feeling embarrassed but it’s Scott. She doesn't need to be. </span>
  <span class="s1">She can tell he’s trying his hardest to keep his eyes on her face and it makes her chuckle. She picks up the clementine beside her and tosses it at him. He flinches away as it smacks his chest and falls into the water. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs loudly and Scott shakes his head at her, holding back his own laughter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He’s never seen her bare before, and the sheer fabric is doing things to him. He can’t help it, he’s only human, and the image of her pink little nipples pressing hard against the damp material of her bra is something he never wants to forget.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry if I was staring.” He apologises. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs. She likes that he stared at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He fishes the clementine out of the water and tosses it up in the air, water droplets flying everywhere as it twirls up and then smacks back down into his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“You planning on eating this or just using it as a weapon?” He jokes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sticks out her hand for it and Scott returns it to her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He watches as she peels it, her tongue poking out of the side of her mouth in concentration-She likes to strip the whole peel off in one go if she can manage it. She does. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Her cheeks are still flushed from the heat, though they’re a lighter shade of pink now, and her hair’s piled on top of her head in a messy bun to keep it off her neck. As Scott’s eyes fall lower, he admires the water droplets on her chest, shimmering in the candlelight on her glowing skin and then rolling down her body, over the soft mounds of flesh that the inner bit of her bra doesn’t conceal. </span>
  <span class="s1">He steals another glance at her nipples and is overcome with the urge to free her from the sheer material covering her because why should she hide something so beautiful? </span>
  <span class="s1">He tears his eyes away before he gets too carried away, only to have them then catch on the neon of her thong under the water. He thinks it’s somewhat unlike Tess to wear such bright colours, but like the citrus had earlier, the neon just seems to fit the mood; zappy, sweet and sour in all the right ways. </span>
  <span class="s1">And then her legs - long and tanner than usual from the summer sun stretched out over and between his, her smooth skin moving against him, a foot on his thigh and a foot on his chest, tickling him slightly with her blue-manicured toes. </span>
  <span class="s1">When he glances up to watch her again she's staring at him, smirking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott blushes. “Sorry.” He says again. “I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” She giggles, sitting up and discarding the clementine peel on the edge of the tub before peeling one of the slices off and slipping it into her mouth. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t help the soft smile on his face as he watches her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“You think the power will come back on tonight?” She asks, covering her mouth as she speaks, ever polite.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s tongue flicks out across his lips. “I don’t know.” He says quietly. “We might be in here a while.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Her eyes catch his and she bites her lip. “Do you want a slice?” She asks, offering him the fruit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He nods and she draws her legs back, kneeling and climbing over toward him, her hand bracing on his chest as she lowers herself down, slipping an slice into his mouth as he wraps his arms around her and presses her against his chest, enjoying the softness of her body and the scent of her shampoo. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa settles against him, cradling the clementine loosely in one hand as she rests her cheek on his chest and exhales deeply, the water rippling around them, making a gentle lapping sound against the sides of the bathtub. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott can feel her lips on his chest, turned up in a smile. She turns her face slightly and kisses him gently, just under his collarbone and then once more, moving up to his shoulder blade. It’s nonchalant, almost reflexive, like she’s straightening his tie or picking a piece of lint from his shirt. His skin is sticky and warm and he smells like summer. </span>
  <span class="s1">She feels his hand in her hair, stroking though gently, careful not to pull any of it from her bun, as she moves upward to kiss his neck. </span>
  <span class="s1">He lets out a soft “Mmh.” At that, and Tessa feels her stomach flip. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She does it again and feels his hand on the back of her neck, massaging the muscles there. Tessa closes her eyes and hums at the feeling, pressing her lips against his neck and sucking, her teeth nipping slightly and her tongue sliding over him to soothe the burn. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott exhales deeply, the rise of his chest causing Tessa’s back to lift out of the water, only to have it surround her again. The feeling is so strangely erotic that she moans against his neck, shuddering as she shifts her body slightly so that one of his thighs is between hers. She can feel his hardened length pressing against the fabric of his boxers and she sits back, the water dripping off of her chest making Scott shift as he is uncomfortably hard now beneath her, though the smile never leaves his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I wish we could just go lay out on the ice.” She says, rocking lazily against his thigh, as if she’s really doing nothing of import. The motion generates small waves in the bathwater. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott tucks a damp strand of hair that has fallen from her bun back behind her ear. </span>
  <span class="s1">“That would be nice.” he nods. “I could see you out there in your yellow bikini.” he muses, holding her waist as she moves, his thumbs stroking over her hips, “Maybe we could go to the lake tomorrow.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, looking down on him as his eyes dart from her hips to her breasts and up to meet her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She smiles and takes her hand off his chest to peel another slice of clementine off and pop it in her mouth before preforming the same action and pressing it to his lips this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Guess how many clementines I ate today.” Tessa whispers, still rocking slowly on Scott’s thigh, though they both seem intent on ignoring that fact completely.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott hums, enjoying the feel of her there, and closes his eyes, resting his head back on the cool porcelain. “Eighteen.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa snorts and Scott beams. </span>
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head and he can feel the motion of it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Four.” She says, and then waits eagerly for his reaction.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He opens his eyes and looks unimpressed, shrugging his shoulders.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Four’s a lot!” She informs him defensively. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs and holds out his hand. “Let me see it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa places the remainder of the clementine in the palm of his hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, kiddo, it’s pretty tiny if you ask me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes. “When’s the last time you ate <em>four</em> clementines?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott makes a show of considering it while he peels off a piece. “Not something I’ve ever wanted to do, honestly.” He laughs. “You must’ve been pretty bored, T.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She shrugs. </span>
  <span class="s1">There’s silence for a while before Tessa looks up at him and asks, “Why did you break up with Nicole?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">They hadn’t really talked about it, what it meant, only what it <em>didn’t</em> mean. It didn’t mean he was expecting anything from Tessa.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott tries to keep a neutral expression. “It just wasn’t something I wanted to do anymore.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa nods and smiles shyly at the way he’s looking at her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a long moment before stroking a hand down the length of his chest, all the way to his boxers and over his hard length. “What <em>is</em> something you’d want to do, then?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott bites his lip and slips the slice of clementine between Tessa’s lips. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“This.” He says simply, leaning forward and nipping at it, causing its juices to explode, dripping down Tessa’s chest and spattering over her lips. She pulls back a bit in surprise, chewing on the other half of the clementine and swallowing before Scott pulls her back toward him, pausing just as his lips touch hers. “Can I?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott lets his tongue run across the seam of her lips, collecting all of the sweet juice there until she opens them for him allowing him to chase the taste. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Mmh.” He moans softly into her mouth as his tongue brushes across hers.</span>
  <span class="s1">They kiss slowly, Scott’s hands coming up to cup her cheeks, one hand still holding the clementine and pressing it against her gently, the sweet scent wafting between them. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott growls as their kissing becomes more intense. He’d missed the taste of her so much. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Is this ok, Tess?” He pulls back to ask her. “I didn’t break up with Nicole for this, I need you to know that. I don’t expect anything I just … you showed me that <em>that</em> relationship wasn’t something I wanted. You don’t owe me anything, I don’t know if you feel that way, but you don’t and you never did and you never will.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles at him, her hand brushing across his chest. “I know.” She whispers. “We talked about it, remember?” Of course Scott remembers, but Tessa can still see the look of doubt on his face. “I do want this. I want you. I want you to touch me.” She tells him, and she can see this makes him feel better. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s hand - the one that isn't busy holding the clementine - drifts down, over Tessa’s shoulder and then over her chest, fingers brushing across her nipple and making her gasp as his hand travels even lower, across her hip and around to her back and finally down until he can grip her ass and squeeze her there, pulling her closer, the water splashing between them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok to kiss you, then?” He asks even though they’ve already done it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and leans forward to kiss him in case he needs a prompt. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott kisses her back eagerly, and Tessa’s hands cradle his head, fingers grasping his hair. </span>
  <span class="s1">When they pull apart for air, Scott raking Tessa’s lower lip through his teeth, he presses his forehead to hers and they pant together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Just…” He catches her arm, holding her in place as she’s about to move. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Let me get this.” He says, leaning down to her chest and licking the clementine juice that had spilled there up by following a long line from where her bra met in the center of her chest upward and across her to the right, enjoying how the topography of her body changes at the swell of her breast and then evens back out just before the dip of her collarbone. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa shivers at the sensation and watches as Scott leans back down and repeats the same course of action on the other side of her chest, continuing up her neck to suck at the spot under her jaw this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” Tessa sighs, a shudder running through her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott runs his hand up to hold her neck as he pulls back. “Is that helping you cool off?” He asks, glancing down at the goosebumps that had popped up again all across her arms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs breathily, but quickly chokes on it as Scott presses his lips back to her neck and sucks harder, his tongue smoothing over her sporadically until he reaches her ear to blow a cool, gentle breath of air against her there, sending another shiver down her spine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott pulls back and watches her with a smile. “Feels good?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott sits up and cocks his head, admiring her for a moment before she dips her hand underwater and brushes over his erection. He draws a sharp breath and Tessa grins. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I want <em>you</em> to make me feel good.” She says sweetly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and lets out a deep breath. “Fuck, Tess, get back here.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He pulls her down against his chest and begins to kiss her again. “I can do that.” He breathes between kisses as he slips a free hand down between them to rub her through her thong. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hums softly into his mouth and brings her hand back to his boxers, slipping beneath the waistband to touch him for the first time. </span>
  <span class="s1">His throaty groan emboldens her and before long, she’s stroking the length of him, the water splashing up his chest as they kiss. She breaks away to peel his boxers from him and he lifts his hips to help her, watching as she tosses them to the back corner of the tub. Scott pulls at her thong, but it proves difficult to remove as he’s still holding the clementine in his left hand. Tessa stands up and peels the wet fabric off of herself, glad to be rid of it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott watches her, pupils blown wide with desire as she settles back down in his lap. The fingers of his right hand trace the soft curve of her left breast. </span>
  <span class="s1">“This too?” He asks, modestly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods and Scott watches patiently as she slips it up and over her head, her breasts bouncing slightly as they’re released from the fabric. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s the first time he’s seen her this way - completely bare. She’s beautiful. She’s <em>pinker</em> than he imagined and she looks so very soft. He just wants to touch her all over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa tosses the bra to the side and instinctually goes to cover herself, self conscious now that Scott’s staring so intently. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Is this alright?” He asks gently. “If you don’t feel comfortable… We can stop any time, T.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head no, her cheeks colouring. “It’s just new.” She says, and Scott nods in agreement. “It is new.” He says, and then he asks quietly, “Can I touch you?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Wherever you want.” Tessa says, breathily.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott reaches out with his free hand and pulls her arm away from her chest so he can see all of her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He exhales shakily. “You’re so beautiful.” He tells her. “I hope you know that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">The words hurt her for some reason, make her feel more vulnerable. She’s realising she still needs him to say them before she can ever consider believing it herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott leans in slowly, his mouth pressing gently to her shoulder blade. He holds her there, pressing a long kiss to her before moving lower, his lips and tongue working around the side of her breast, lavishing all the parts of them she thought were unimportant - nobody had ever paid them much mind before - her past boyfriends had gone straight for her nipples, pinching them roughly, but the way Scott teases around them is a revelation, and she shuts her eyes in an effort to take in the fullness of the feeling. He has one hand on her stomach now, his fingers caressing her gently while he works his way to the middle of her chest and pays her other breast the same attention. His hand comes up to cup her breast, thumb brushing gently across her nipple in a way that makes her gasp. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott can’t help the smile that forces from him. He lowers his head slowly, looking up at Tessa to make sure she’s alright. Her eyes are closed, but her hand goes to his hair, guiding him where she wants him. He happily obliges, taking her right nipple into his mouth and sucking gently, his tongue brushing against her and teeth raking across her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He’s tasted her skin before, but this particular spot is different. The skin of her nipple is velvety and softer and he marvels at the way it hardens for him. He’s trying his best to read her, to learn all at once every thing he should do to make her breath hitch, to make her squirm and grind against him, but there’s so much he wants to pay attention to. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa holds his hair tightly as he works one breast and then the other, his free hand eventually moving between her legs, teasing her there as well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She rasps after a while. “Oh my god, Scott.” </span>
  <span class="s1">She grips his wrist and he stills his movements, pulling away from her to check in. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Are you ok?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods quickly. “No - yes, I mean <em>yes</em>, don’t stop, please don’t stop, it feels <em>so</em> nice.” She might have been bashful if she hadn’t felt like her body were on fire. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott just grins. “Ok.” He says softly, and then he leans in and kisses her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s hands grip his shoulders and she leans close to him so that their cheeks are touching, wet and sticky. “Would you have sex with me?” She asks, and Scott’s sure he hasn’t heard her correctly, but the blood seems to have rushed from his head nonetheless, making him feel dizzy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“What?” He asks, stupidly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chews her lip. She thought he’d want this. She wants it. She wants it <em>so</em> much. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Would … you have sex with me?” She asks again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I - I -“ Scott tries and fails to compose an actual sentence. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“If you don’t want to that’s -“</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott interrupts her this time, “I want to.” He says, his voice breaking embarrassingly. “I want that. I - I want you, Tess. But - uh, have you ever … have you ever done this before?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Sex in a bathtub?” She asks, jokingly. “No.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Sex in general.” Scott asks, a weak smile on his face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“No.” She says again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She almost laughs. Here she is at nearly twenty one years old - she’s travelled all over the world, danced in front of millions of people, won the fucking <em>O</em><em>lympics</em>, and she’s still a virgin. It had never bothered her much before, she’d had far more important goals, far more important things to worry about, and nobody she’d been with had made her reconsider. But this is different. She’s wants this. She wants <em>him</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s face flushes red. “And you want this, you’re <em>sure</em> you want this? With me?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I trust you.” She whispers. “I want it to be with someone I trust, and I trust you more than anyone in the world.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott swallows hard.<em> No pressure.</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He says, and then glances around at his surroundings. “Are you sure you don’t want to move to your bed or like … anywhere else?” He asks, unsure if someone’s first time should be in a bathtub. He thinks that must be rare, but he’s not sure himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa considers it, but shakes her head. She wants the water around her. She feels comforted by it, the way it laps against her back. And she likes feeling Scott’s wet skin on hers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He says again, and then takes a deep breath. “Ok.” He kisses her cheek. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She takes the clementine from him so he can lean over the side of the tub and grab his pants up off the floor, fishing his wallet out of his back pocket and then retrieving a condom from just inside. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa watches with intrigue as he opens the foil packet and then she inches slightly back as he lines the condom up with his cock under water. </span>
  <span class="s1">He takes her hand and she lets him guide it. He wraps it around his cock and helps her roll the condom over him. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s enthralled. In a way, she feels like an anthropologist, learning the rituals surrounding human sex. She’s sure Scott would find this train of thought hilarious, if only because he’d think it was so stereotypically <em>her</em>, but he he’s so focused on the way her hand looks and feels wrapped around the base of him that he doesn’t notice the sly smile on her face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He reaches for her and pulls her closer then, his hand trailing its way up her thigh and between her legs where he touches her until she’s bucking against his hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He teases a finger at her entrance and Tessa gasps and nods vehemently. “Please.” She whispers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott shudders at the need in her voice and slips a finger inside of her. Tessa gasps again, withdrawing a bit. Scott stills himself, searching her face for direction before asking her outright, “Tess? Does it hurt?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me if it hurts.” Scott says. “We can stop any time you want, ok?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She nods, breathing hard. “No.” She manages eventually. “Doesn’t hurt.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott realises his shoulders are up by his ears. He’s so absolutely terrified of doing something she won’t like that he hasn’t even let himself pay attention to the feel of her. His cock twitches when he finally realises how tight and soft and <em>wet</em> she is. And sure, they’re in a bathtub, so there’s a lot that’s wet, but this is a different type of wet altogether. Tessa’s wetness feels warm and silky. And suddenly he finds himself biting his lip trying not to think too much more about it. </span>
  <span class="s1">He just moves his hand slow against her, reading the cues of her body as he so often does. She’s open for him there, in his lap. She’s so very open, and he feels truly privileged that she trusts him this way. </span>
  <span class="s1">He slips another finger inside of her and she lets out a sweet little moan that he knows is immediately filed away into his fantasies for the rest of his life. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Ok?” He asks, as he works his fingers, curling them against the soft spot inside her that he’s found makes her dig her nails into his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s eyes are closed but she nods. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“More?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“More.” She confirms.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He continues until she’s shaking. She’s moaning now, struggling to keep composure, and she leans in closer and whispers in Scott’s ear, “I want to feel <em>you</em>.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott lets out a deep breath and nods. She watches as he withdraws his hand from her, and she thinks she’s never felt so empty in all her life. It forces tears to her eyes which she beats back by sheer power of will. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott brings his fingers to his mouth and slips them inside, sucking every last bit of her from them, savouring the taste on his tongue. She’s sweet and salty. She tastes like summer and he feels like he’ll die if he doesn’t get more, but he’s here for Tessa. He wants to focus on her. He wants to make her feel the way he feels. He wants her to need him and then he wants to give her exactly what she needs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles at him and hands him back the clementine. It’s funny, passing it between them - like a game of sorts. </span>
  <span class="s1">He pulls back, giving her time to breathe before watching her line herself up with him. She slides down slowly on his cock, stopping as the tip enters her. She releases a sharp breath, and Scott shuts his eyes tightly, gripping her to keep himself from moving. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa waits another moment before easing down on him completely, letting out a short, sharp breath and then leaning against him wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He pulls her against him, holds her tight to his chest, his hand in her hair. “Are you alright?” He sputters, trying not to sound completely wrecked. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1"><em>Fuck she feels amazing</em>. She’s so warm and wet and <em>tight</em>, and Scott can hardly process what she’s saying. He has to force himself to make sense of each individual word. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“I’m good.” She says. “I -“ She moves slightly and moans at the sensation it causes inside of her. She’s never felt anything like this. She’s never felt so whole and full and so connected to someone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She rolls her hips and Scott grunts, which she likes very much. She clenches around him and he shuts his eyes tightly at the feeling, letting out another low groan. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa just breaths a sweet “Ohh.” As she begins to instinctually rock against him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Does it feel ok?” He asks her, a hand coming to cup her cheek. He needs to know that she’s not in pain. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Tessa had felt a kind of ache at first, but it had transformed into a dull burning that felt perfect. “It’s so good.” She says softly. “Are you ok?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles at her and nods. “So good, T. Take it as slow as you need, ok?” He tells her. There’s no need to rush anything. In fact, he’d like to prolong this moment, this sensation, this closeness he feels with her for as long as possible. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott lets her go at her own pace, rubbing her clit to match her and watching the incredible expression of bliss on her delicate face. </span>
  <span class="s1">Soon, she’s panting and keening, her back arching and her nails dig into his shoulders. She presses her lips to his ear and whines lowly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” Scott manages to grunt, “Tess, tell me what you need.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“More.” Is all she can come up with when she can take it no longer. She pulls at his hips and he understands, he helps by beginning to thrust up into her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Yesss.” She says breathily. “Oh, please, please.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott kisses her cheek again and works his way down to suck on her neck, his free hand massaging her breast. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa can’t help the quick gasps that came out of her at the pleasure he’s giving her. She knows her knees are going to bruise as they press against the hard porcelain of the bathtub, but she can’t bring herself to care. She’s too caught up in the feel of Scott inside of her. She thinks maybe she’ll like the bruises, maybe she’ll like pressing on them and remembering what they did to each other tonight. She’ll remember the way he took her so completely. And it does feel like he’s <em>taking</em> her. She was just a scattered mix of parts before, and Scott is taking her and melting her down and building her back up, leaving something whole and complete in her place. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">She braces herself at his shoulders and grinds down on him harder faster, pressing her face into his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder. </span>
  <span class="s1">It feels like they’re one whole person. It feels like they’re one living thing, joined at the hips. Their hearts are the same, their minds are the same, their breath is the same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott can tell how close Tessa is. He can feel the way she’s fluttering around him and it's driving him up a wall. That, coupled with the way she feels; velvety and warm and slippery makes him groan low and long and rumbly and <em>fuck</em>, he realizes he’s crushed what had remained of the clementine in his fist. He hadn’t even remembered it was in his hand.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He hisses, and she opens her eyes and straightens up to look at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">He guides the mess of orange pulp to her mouth and she licks and sucks it from his fingers, as he watches her, entranced. She drinks the juices and bites down on the only remaining chunk just as she comes, a gush of sweet citrus flooding her mouth and making her moan lewdly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Before she can even think to swallow it, Scott’s sticky hand is gripping her chin, pulling her back toward him, crashing their lips together and pulling the sweetness into his mouth as well, moaning deeply along with her as he comes hard inside of her, the nectar on their lips dribbling between them, down their chins and necks - neither of them able to get enough. And when they finally pull apart, panting and raw, their tongues go to work cleaning the liquid from one another’s body, licking it all up, savouring the flavor of each other along with the clementine. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t feel like before - when she comes - it doesn’t feel the way it did when he brought her there with just his fingers. This is something so much more intimate and deep that it makes her shake, and Scott must understand because she can feel him shaking as well. </span>
  <span class="s1">He makes to pull out of her after a while, but Tessa doesn’t think she can bare that emptiness just yet, so she holds his hips in place, and Scott understands. He stays. </span>
  <span class="s1">As they catch their breath, they hold each other tight. Scott can feel their hearts beat in time. He angles his head down to look at her. Tessa’s eyes are closed, but the edges of her swollen lips are upturned in a peaceful smile. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“Are you alright?” Scott asks, as he lets his hand dip into the water and dribble little droplets over Tessa’s arm before stroking them away, fingers trailing along her freckles. Tessa’s hand runs across Scott’s chest. She nods. “I liked that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “Me too.” He says, and he kisses the crown of her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">“That didn’t help me cool off at all, though.” She teases, smiling softly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p5">
  <span class="s1">Scott laughs out loud. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Confusing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“People are confused by us.” Tessa says. “We’re <em>confusing</em>.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s laying on her back in Scott’s bed, her hands clasped together over her stomach. She’s wearing nothing but his socks - her feet were cold, so he'd slipped them on for her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott leans over and kisses her on her collarbone. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s late now, nearly nine o’clock, and Scott knows Tessa will leave soon. She refuses to sleep over. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smirks. “Yeah?” He asks, squirming a bit to move closer to her so he can feel her soft skin against him. “Sometimes I get that vibe.” He confirms. Sometimes he feels confused himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’d been doing a bit of press lately with nationals coming up, and the classic question they’ve always been asked keeps coming up over and over; <em>Are you two in a relationship?</em></span>
  <span class="s1">They don’t always pose it that way. It’s not always that blatant. Sometimes it’s more open-ended, but with the clear intention of assessing their romantic boundaries; <em>What’s the relationship between the two of you like?</em> </span>
  <span class="s1">Or sometimes it sounds juvenile, like they’re the subject of some grade school gossip, </span>
  <em>
    <span class="s1">And are the two of you boyfriend and girlfriend?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It makes Tessa want to pull her hair out. </span>
  <span class="s1">How can she explain something that has no boundaries, no borders, no shape, really? Everything just flows as it should. </span>
  <span class="s1">How can she explain the unexplainable? Things that just are. Things that always have been? </span>
  <span class="s1">She tries her best to dumb it down to something plain English might be able to encapsulate, but the words are inferior at best. It pains her to say them - to have to attempt to bridle something so sublime and boundless. </span>
  <span class="s1">Deep down, she knows that if she even tried to explain it people would take it the wrong way. They’d twist it and make it sound dirty, risqué. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s not their fault. She has to remind herself that they possess something so rare and infinite that it borders on lewd to most people. They simply can’t comprehend it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re supposed to be <em>relatable</em>, she and Scott. They’re supposed to be Canada’s favourite kiddos - the wholesome girl and boy next door. It’s their image. She understands that, puts hours of work into <em>being</em> that, but in the end, she feels misunderstood. </span>
  <span class="s1">What is comes down to in the press, much to her chagrin, isn’t their skating. It isn’t the stories they tell with their beat up bodies, suffering for the sake of their art. No. It comes down to their relationship. Something not only fully separate from their art - which is the reason they’re even doing interviews in the first place - but also something immensely private. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She wishes it didn’t have to be this way. </span>
  <span class="s1">They’re Scott and Tessa. One is an extension of the other. They’re two parts of a whole, but they’re whole apart as well. </span>
  <span class="s1">She hadn’t seen it as a problem until people started trying to force them into a specific shape. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’d spent countless hours pondering why people felt the need to slap a label on them, clip their wings, squeeze them into a box so tight they could hardly breathe. </span>
  <span class="s1">But then she realised it, and it made so much sense because it was the same reason she’d been such an outcast at the rink in her younger years before the olympics. It was because they didn’t <em>conform</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">It frustrated people. They didn’t understand that she and Scott weren’t lying to them. They weren’t trying to avoid a question, they weren’t in denial or oblivious or any of those things. They knew what they had and they knew there was no possible way to describe it to someone who didn’t have it. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa was sorry for that. She was sorry that there were so many people out there who hadn’t experienced what she and Scott had. </span>
  <span class="s1">And the more people tried to define it, the more she felt herself pulling away. They were ruthless, insisting they had to be one of only a few things. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But they weren’t. They were many, many things. They were everything. Best friends, mortal enemies, lovers and children and artists and two souls that could merge together and split apart as they pleased, without even a whisper of doing so. She wasn’t trying to upset people, but they refused any answer she gave them, refused to see past the one they had already decided on in their head. It was exhausting. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa hadn’t been ready for the way people had invaded her life. It was one thing to demand the answer to a personal question, but another entirely to demand it and then refuse to accept it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott felt differently. He felt that “in a relationship” was enough of an approximation for what they were. He thought giving people that would make them back off. He hated what they did to Tessa, the way they berated her with questions because they could see she was the one that least liked them. They did that on purpose and it made him mad. Quite honestly, Scott wants them to be seen as romantic partners. But he had never been one to encroach upon Tessa’s comfort zone - at least not on purpose. </span>
  <span class="s1">He just wasn’t as controlled as she was. He’d let things slip here and there in interviews about aspects of their partnership that could be seen as more intimate than average, and, for the most part Tessa would brush it off. She was good at making space for his mistakes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would tell her when they were alone that she wasn’t wrong. He wanted her to know that. They were more than just partners, more than just lovers, more than the two put together and more than those things with a million other descriptors affixed to their names. She was right, but if Tessa couldn’t explain it with her seemingly infinite vocabulary, Scott wasn’t sure how he could ever even begin to attempt it, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t confuse him a bit. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Each time they touched each other, it meant something different. And Tessa knew that that wasn’t something that was unique to them, so why did other people have such trouble seeing it? </span>
  <span class="s1">A touch at her hip might be grounding, the graze of his nose against hers might be comforting, his hand splayed out on her chest as he dragged it slowly downward might be loving. His fingers ghosting across hers as they walked side by side might be erotic. There were no rules with them. She could feel any number of things about Scott and it would be ok. It was just how they were. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She didn’t want to force things, that wasn’t who she was. She’d been bullied into believing one thing or another her entire life - that she wasn’t good enough, wasn’t fast enough, skinny enough, delicate enough, pretty enough, whatever it might have been at the time. She’d fed into it. She’d been young and impressionable, how could she not have? It had left her with scars far deeper than the ones on her calves. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott was the one constant throughout all those times. She knew he was that one opposing voice she heard with every criticism, and he was louder and stronger and fiercer than any of them could ever hope to be. And when he wasn’t there she could hear him just as clearly in her head, telling her that <em>she is enough, she is, she is, she is, just as she is</em>. And so she clings to him, and he clings back. But she doesn’t really know what she is. And so it feels so wrong, so invasive to her to have to label it so as to appease some group of strangers. She can’t bring herself to do it. </span>
  <span class="s1">But when Scott is criticised, when his skating is criticised, his intelligence, his emotional acuity, his body, his character. Tessa is there just the same as he is for her. An insult to him is an insult to her just the same. </span>
  <span class="s1">They lift each other up time and again, literally and figuratively and they’d risen to the top together. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it hadn’t always been love, either. They’d fought. Countless times, they’d fought. Countless times they’d cursed each other. They were light and dark sometimes, but they’d always blend back together eventually, and the way it soothed them to do so was as indescribable as their relationship. An earthly salve could never compare to the way it felt for Tessa to curl up against Scott’s warmth and feel his fingertips brush across her bare skin as he held her, or the way he’d whisper in her ear. She’d believe anything he’d tell her in those moments. <em>Anything</em>. Even if it were about herself. She’d believe it in those moments when he told her she was enough for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And for Scott, the feeling of Tessa’s strong little body in his hands, or the complete trust in her eyes as he lifted her above the ice was transcendent. Or when he was hurting and she’d hold him, his head pressed to her breast, his eyes squeezed shut as she filled his senses completely. He’d listen only to her breathing and her heartbeat, and the occasional whisper of her sweet voice. She could tear him to pieces and put him back together just as quickly. He wanted all of it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>I need you.</em> She’d tell him on rare occasions, and to say he’d be there felt inaccurate because he was <em>always</em> there. Whatever it was she wanted, he’d give it to her gladly, always. Be it his words, his time, his body or his cooking skills. </span>
  <span class="s1">And Tessa would reciprocate. She’d do anything for him, too. When it was just the two of them, she’d give him her whole heart, and it meant everything to him. So few people were trusted enough to receive that privilege, and Scott never took it lightly. </span>
  <span class="s1">She was open for him in a way that she would never be with others. </span>
  <span class="s1">She talked to him about her fears, her anxieties, things she was too afraid or too embarrassed to discuss with anyone else. </span>
  <span class="s1">And he protected her as best he could. He’d made it his responsibility over the years. </span>
  <span class="s1">He watched the way she’d let herself be exactly who she was when it was just them and the way she’d shrink herself in front of everyone else. She didn’t trust just anyone. She didn’t let just anyone in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When their therapist told them he thought she might have <em>generalised anxiety</em>, Scott had learned the techniques to combat it with her. </span>
  <span class="s1">When she’s sat on the floor of her hotel room before a competition paralysed with fear that she won't be <em>perfect</em>, or when she’s afraid her legs won’t hold up, he’ll pull her against him and they’ll count together, breathing square breaths - 1, 2, 3, 4, and then backwards - 4, 3, 2, 1. And they’ll do it as long as it takes. He’ll sit there with her until Tessa’s heartbeat matches his. There's no place else he’d rather be. I</span>
  <span class="s1">n a way they’d been doing this since they were very young - syncing their bodies, breathing as one, reminding one another that they’re never really alone.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If they had to label themselves, Scott was happy to call it a relationship, a romantic relationship, because, while it was so much more, it felt like it could check all the boxes of a romantic relationship. And he hated the thought of Tessa with anyone else. </span>
  <span class="s1">Maybe it was selfish, but Scott thought that if they could call their relationship “romantic”, it would stop all those guys from coming up to Tessa at competitions or parties, or anywhere, really. Tessa was Tessa, so she was always kind to them, always engaged in conversation, but she never seemed to take it beyond that. She’d never reach out to them, would never put their numbers in her phone. She and Scott didn’t talk about it, like he they didn’t talk about Scott actively not seeing anyone, but he missed that certain degree of comfort he got from having someone he could call his girlfriend, someone who he could kiss when he felt the moment seize him, someone who he could wake up next to in the middle of the night and hold close. He wanted Tessa to be that for him, but he’d never force that on her. If she didn’t want it, he wouldn’t have it. He was afraid that pushing her into a role she didn’t want would ruin things. </span>
  <span class="s1">And things were good as they were. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa was as sweet as she was fiery and as gentle as she was fierce. She could as passionate and intense and unforgiving as she could be gentle and soothing and tender. She could be all of those at once and even more. There was no part of her Scott didn’t want to touch, no part of her he was afraid to know, no part of her he didn’t want close to himself. </span>
  <span class="s1">And to her, Scott was the same. </span>
  <span class="s1">Just as their partnership was indefinable, they were indefinable to each other. There could never seem to find words accurate enough to fully describe each other, but nor did they desire to do so. It was only ever in interviews when they were asked to do this, but they cared not to hem each other in. They wanted only to help the other grow; to rise and blossom and flourish until people could understand. Until everyone could see that their partner was indefinable, was untouchable, could be anything, was more than <em>everything</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are <em>you</em> confused by us?” Scott asks. He has his head resting on her warm shoulder now, his hand running across hers where they’re joined on her stomach. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s closes her eyes. “No.” She says simply. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<hr/>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Things really are good for a while. Scott will pick Tessa up for practice in the mornings with a steaming hot cup of coffee waiting for her in his passenger side cup holder. He’ll give the barista funny names to write on the cup in black sharpie to make her smile. It’s something different every day. </span>
  <span class="s1">Sometimes she can tell he puts extra sugar in it for her. It’s the way she likes it but she almost never indulges herself. Sometimes he gets her a chocolate eclair which she makes them share.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not weird. Tessa thought it might be weird, like, she’s seen him naked and now that’s all she’ll see when she looks at him, but it’s not. Nothing really changes except that sometimes after practice they go back to one of their apartments and take each other’s clothes off. It’s how she wants it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott finds it interesting, the way Tessa polices herself. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s so goal oriented that she refuses to think about anything but the next Olympics. She’d hardly even celebrated their gold medal in Vancouver. It seems like never allows herself anything. Even the extra sugar he knows she likes in her morning coffee is too much. She never indulges herself, so he does it for her, not all the time. He knows that would be too much for her, and it’s not his place, but he likes to give her those things sometimes. </span>
  <span class="s1">And he takes her back to his apartment those nights after practice, he likes to show her how much she deserves. He likes to touch her until she comes, and then clean her up with his tongue until she comes again, and finally, he’ll fuck her until she’s shaking and clawing at him and utterly spent. He likes to show her that it’s not all business all the time, and there’s no such thing as perfect. She can have fun and be a good ice dancer. And she deserves to feel good. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Tessa can’t help but surrender to him a bit. Scott has a way of making her feel safe, comfortable. It’s funny because normally as soon as Tessa starts feeling comfortable, she gets uncomfortable, starts thinking of all the things she needs to do better. Nothing is ever good enough, but with Scott, it is. She thinks that for her it is, but maybe for him it isn’t. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s hard for Scott. He gets tired of having to deny a deeper relationship with her. He’s hurt by the way she refuses to sleep over, he’s hurt that they can’t even share their relationship with their families. He loves her and he doesn’t want to hide it. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa knows this. But it’s not <em>her</em>. She’s not ready for everything that would come with it. The press is unbearable enough as it is. She couldn’t handle the added pressure of them actually being in a relationship. Not only would it completely detract from their art, everything they did would be endlessly scrutinised. She can’t do it. She can’t be what Scott wants, so it’s unfair for her to continue things the way they’re going. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s killing her inside. She feels terribly hypocritical. She was, at one point, shouting at him for treating their relationship like a secret, and now here she is forcing him to do the very same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So one night she comes to Scott’s apartment in the middle of a rainstorm. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’s excited at her unexpected visit, takes her in his arms even though she’s wet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come here.” He says, and he pulls her into his room by her hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He smiles softly at her as he pulls her shirt off, undoes her bra. </span>
  <span class="s1">She shivers at how bare she is. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott unbuttons her pants, slips them off, takes her underwear with them. </span>
  <span class="s1">He takes one selfish moment to look at her, to admire how beautiful she is, and then he slips one of his t-shirts over her head and scoops her up in his arms. He carries her back out to his living room, sits on the couch with her cradled in his arms, pulls a blanket over them. He keeps it there for when she comes over because it seems like she’s always cold. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott’s watching hockey, Tessa doesn’t recognise the teams - it’s college. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott shuts it off before she can work out which colleges. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa leans her head on his chest, lets herself rise and fall with his breathing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Am I not enough?” He asks. “You want something different?” His voice cracks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes Tessa off guard. Does he know why she’s here tonight? </span>
  <span class="s1">She looks up at him and sees tears in his eyes. He knows.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She shakes her head. “I want this.” She wraps her arms around his neck, holds him tight. “But <em>you</em> don’t.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He says it so desperately that it hurts. “I want you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want more.” She says. “And you deserve it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” He asks, and she knows what he means. <em>Why can’t we be more?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can you imagine,” She says, “If they found out?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s silent. He didn’t think it would be so bad. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’d never have anything for ourselves.” She tells him. We’d never really be us. I don’t think I could do it, Scott. I can hardly handle it as it is.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s desperate for him to understand, to know how much she still loves him. </span>
  <span class="s1">But she doesn’t need to worry. Scott pulls her tighter, makes sure the blanket his covering her feet. </span>
  <span class="s1">He does understand. Not from his perspective, but from hers. He knows how she feels about her privacy, he hates to think how it would be for her, to have her life intruded upon in that way. He knows he’d lose her that way too, anyway. </span>
  <span class="s1">He kisses her forehead. “I love you, kiddo.” He tells her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She grips his hair, tucks her face into the crook of his neck. “I love you too.” She tells him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that’s that. Things go back to the way they were and it’s almost as if nothing’s even happened between the two of them. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott sleeps with a girl he meets at a bar and finds himself lost when she doesn’t have freckles flecking her chest. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa meets a boy and starts seeing him casually, impersonally, the way she likes her romantic endeavours. She doesn’t find comfort in him the way she did in Scott, but she’s always forced herself to be comfortable with the uncomfortable.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their free dance is Carmen. Scott laughs out loud when he hears the plot of the opera. Tessa glances at him and he grins. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Watch it, Virtch.” He says in good humour, and she laughs back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But sometimes Tessa’s boyfriend will pick her up from the rink, and Scott will have to set his jaw and get in his car and blast the type of music he knows Tessa doesn’t like all the way home. </span>
  <span class="s1">He tells Tessa later that he doesn’t like the guy, but she ignores him, tells him he’s overprotective.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He starts dating Hannah, and he likes her a lot. She makes him dinner and he spends a lot of time at her apartment because his seems suddenly very empty. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s happy when Tessa stops seeing the guy, though he doesn’t ask why. He isn’t sure he wants to know. It’s not long after that she starts seeing another guy, and he can’t stand this one either. </span>
  <span class="s1">He tells her again. It doesn’t go over as well this time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s an ass, Tess.” He says to her in the locker room as they’re packing up for the day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She’s shoving her skates into her duffel, keen to get out of this conversation as quickly as possible. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s fine, Scott. It’s not like we’re getting married.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then why are you dating him?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes pause at this, hasn’t realised that he might be dating with the intention of marriage. Would he actually <em>marry</em> Hannah? She shudders at the thought and then quickly pushes her opinions on his relationships down into the part of herself she doesn’t allow to see the light. His happiness is all that matters. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa just shakes her head, continues packing her bag. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He says, exasperated, leaning his head back against the cinderblock wall. “You can do <em>so</em> much better.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa ignores him again, but weeks later, she stops seeing the guy. She tells herself it has nothing to do with Scott. But nobody makes her feel the way he does. </span>
  <span class="s1">She sees another guy, sort of casually, just on the side when she’s bored. He knows Scott from a pick-up hockey league or something. Tessa’s made it a point not to let the two worlds come together. She doesn’t tell Scott she’s seeing him, but when he picks her up from a bar they’re at one night with some other skaters, Scott catches a glimpse of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next day he tells her that she should stop seeing him. </span>
  <span class="s1">They’re in the lounge at the rink after a day of practice. They've just showered and changed into their street clothes and for an interview and Tessa’s waiting for her coffee to brew from the Keurig. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s frustrating. It’s frustrating how Scott can have a girlfriend that she’ll keep her mouth shut about because he’s happy, but she can’t see who she wants without him haranguing her about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She says that to him, those very words, and Scott rolls his eyes at her superior vocabulary and thinks she’s probably used it strategically. But he works out that she’s <em>annoyed</em> with him, and that’s all he really needs to know. </span>
  <span class="s1">Normally, he’d have backed off a bit, but he knows this guy, knows on a personal level that he’s a real asshole, so he doesn’t let it go. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, Tess, just… anyone but him, seriously.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You say that about everyone I see, Scott.” She says back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but this guy is the worst of them, and I’m not kidding, Tess.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s upset and Tessa can tell, though she doesn’t fully know why.<em> He has a girlfriend. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ok, Scott.” Is what she says, trying to placate him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he’s just spent all day feeling her up. Carmen is an entirely different type of program than anything they’ve done before and it makes him feel like he’s on fire when he touches the inside of her thigh, when she’s mounting his hips, when she’s <em>straddling his face</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Goddamnit, Marina</em>! He curses her in his head, but he wonders secretly if Tessa feels the same way. Nothing is ever enough without her. And he likes his girlfriend, very much. She’s sweet and kind and she cares for him, but she’s not Tessa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, Tess. I can’t fucking stand the thought of him touching you.” He says, baring his emotions now. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need <em>someone</em> to touch me, Scott!” Tessa nearly shouts. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it makes Scott feel like a selfish bastard. Tess is always happy for him when he’s in a relationship. Why can’t he offer her the same courtesy?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m ok most of the time but... I’m... I really need someone right now.” She knows the only reason she needs someone is to distract her from the pain of him being with someone else and because now that she’s been touched the way he’s touched her, she can’t stand the absence of it, feels the need to search for it. He can’t be the only one. She doesn’t say this. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not fair.” She blurts instead, immediately feeling immature. “It’s not fair to say that to me because I need someone too. You <em>always</em> have someone.” She says bitterly. “And I’m <em>always</em> alone.” She grabs up the coffee that’s just brewed and doesn’t reach for the sugar next to the machine. She takes it black these days. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>You’re never alone.</em> He wants to tell her. But he doesn’t. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s an asshole, T, trust me, I know his type...” Scott trails off and hangs his head. “He doesn’t deserve you.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who does then, Scott?” She asks, voice rising. “You say that about everyone I see.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott falters.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who, Scott?” She demands, but he’s silent, looking at his feet. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>You</em>?” She asks, and Scott’s eyes shoot up to meet hers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a long moment of silence, as they stand there, both breathing hard. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s so intensely focused in the moment that when a door slams in the hallway she jumps into the air and her coffee spills all over her chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ow!” She jumps again as it burns her. “Fuck! Fuck, ow!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott springs into action without a word, grabbing a washcloth and running it under the cool water of the tap. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Open this.” He says, motioning to her shirt as he wrings the cloth out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa fumbles with the buttons, her chest stinging.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine.” She says as she scrambles to free herself of her blouse. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott takes over when it’s clear that she’s too flustered, expertly undoing the buttons for her without a second thought, revealing a bra of emerald lace against the skin of her chest. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s red there, aggravated from the heat of the coffee. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Here, here.” Scott says gently as Tessa’s eyes begin to water. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine, Scott.” She says again, her voice slightly higher than normal. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s hands are shaking as he dabs the cool cloth over Tessa’s chest. He tries not to be distracted by the sight of her, especially when she’s so upset, but her skin is glistening now, the small mounds of her breasts glittering in the light and he’s touching her there again as if nothing has changed. </span>
  <span class="s1">And then all he can hear is the sound of her breathing and the sound of his heart beating. She looks up at him and he’s frozen for a moment before they, as if by some unspoken agreement, fall forward and kiss one another forcefully. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s in his arms in no time, and Scott’s lifting her just like in their program, so that her legs are around his waist, and he can’t breathe, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t ever want to breathe again if this can be the alternative. </span>
  <span class="s1">He presses her to the refrigerator with a soft thud and she bucks her hips against his. </span>
  <span class="s1">His mouth works a trail down her jawline to her neck and then over her collarbone and to the tops of her breasts, her head thrown back against the stainless steel, her hands knotted in his shirt. </span>
  <span class="s1">But they hear another door in the hall and Tessa pushes at Scott’s chest. He lets her down and Tessa pulls away and wipes at her mouth, turning to the side to button up her top. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” She says, and she leaves him there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa has to change into her sweats for the interview now that her blouse has been ruined, and in a show of solidarity, Scott does the same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa appreciates it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Over the next two weeks all Scott can think about is their kiss. It makes him angry, like, <em>so</em> angry whenever he thinks about that fucking asshole from his hockey league getting to kiss her like that. He doesn’t tell Hannah about the kiss, and Tessa doesn’t mention it to anyone. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At their next competition, he shouts so loudly at the beginning of their free dance that he can see Tessa jump. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She hears that shout in her dreams every night for weeks. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chicken</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">They play a game of chicken for some time, each of them pushing the line of what’s <em>right</em>, what’s <em>decent</em>. Tessa presses her body back against his a little too forcefully on the ice, Scott holds her a little too tightly, grips her neck, thumb hard against her pulse, or breathes in her ear. Tessa squeezes his thigh under the table at a press conference, Scott lets his hand linger too long on her ass after a lift. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">It goes on so long between them that every move they make starts to feel like a dare, and they wonder how long it will go on before one of them breaks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s driven so wild that it just pushes him further into his relationship with Hannah. He comes home from a long day of practice so keyed up that all he can think about is <em>fucking</em>, and so if his girlfriend happens to be over, he'll fuck her with Tessa’s scent still all over him. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa goes home to an empty apartment most nights, but she touches herself all the same, tries to make it feel the way Scott did, and groans in frustration at every failed attempt. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">She makes a joke about it in the studio one day when he asks her what she’d been up to the previous night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you know, had a bath, read a book, watched some porn. You know me.” She’d meant it as a joke, it <em>was</em> a joke. She hadn’t actually been watching porn, but Scott’s eyebrows raised from where he stood behind her. She could see his reflection in the mirror behind the barre. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Joking</em>.” She clarifies. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2">
  <span class="s1">And Scott nods, but his brows don’t move for the whole four-minute run-through they do afterward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do you though?” He asks her cautiously out of the blue, as he’s driving her home.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They have groceries in the back. Scott likes to make sure Tessa has plenty to eat since she can’t cook and she occasionally uses it as an excuse to go without a meal thanks to Marina’s constant berating her about her weight. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do I what?” She turns to him in confusion. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Watch porn.” He says. </span>
  <span class="s1">He can feel her body burning with embarrassment. It’s actually kind of adorable. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I- I don’t... I don’t know.” She stammers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t know?” He questions, amusedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She pulls back and looks at him, bashful. Her lips are full and red and her hair is slightly messy from the work they’d put in in the studio. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He shrugs. “It’s not a hard question, Virtch.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I... do <em>you</em>?” She asks, deflecting. She’s a pro at deflecting. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “I’m a grown man, Tess.” He says. “Yeah, I watch porn.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She lets out a quiet little gasp and smiles, as if he’s just let her in on a scandalous, dirty little secret. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott grins and chuckles. </span>
  <span class="s1">“We don’t have to talk about it.” He says. “I know you’re shy about this stuff.” He knows that will get a rise from her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not shy about it!” She says defiantly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott tries to hide his smirk. “Ok.” He says. “So then, do you?” He asks, playfully. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She appears to be deep in thought for a long moment, biting her lip and rolling her eyes down and to the side, her long lashes darkening the emerald green. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He smiles over at her, “This isn’t an interview. This is me. You don’t have to be embarrassed or anything, but you also don’t have to tell me. We don’t have to talk about this, I was just joking. We can stop.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She meets his eyes with such intensity he loses his breath. “I’ve watched it.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His eyebrows shoot back up. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” He asks, “By yourself?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She looks at him funny and giggles. “Who else would I have watched it with, Scott? It’s <em>porn</em>!”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>Oh, Tess.</em> He sighs to himself. She’s so fucking sexy and yet so maddeningly innocent. Maybe that’s part of the allure. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Did you like it?” He asks, ignoring her innocent remark.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She smiles softly and bites her lip. Fuck, he loves that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Some of it was nice.” She says quietly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He pulls into the car park outside her apartment. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott says breathily, not a question this time. “What did you do while you were watching?” He asks, sure but uncaring that this is crossing a line. It’s part of their game now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blushes and they climb out of the car, meeting in the back seat to gather the groceries. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She wants his help to say it, she’s never been good at that. </span>
  <span class="s1">They’re each leaning in from one side of the passenger doors, hands braced on the seat. Their faces are inches apart. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Did you touch yourself?” He offers, knowing this is a lot for her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She nods, her eyes playful as Scott groans at the thought. </span>
  <span class="s1">They scoop the bags up into their arms and Scott manages to lock the car door as they make their way to Tessa’s apartment. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Did it feel good?” He asks, chewing his lip as Tessa unlocks her apartment door. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” She whispers, giving a quick nod, and Scott hums softly, his eyes raking over her form. </span>
  <span class="s1">They set the groceries down on Tessa’s marble counter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“What did you think about?” He asks her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sucks her bottom lip through her teeth. “I pretended it was happening... to me.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s eyes are glued to her now. </span>
  <span class="s1">“What were you watching?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa leans back against the counter. She can’t help the flush of her cheeks now that he’s looking at her. She looks away for a moment, but he catches her chin in his hand and turns her to look back at him. He doesn’t want her to doubt herself. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Tessa.” He huffs. “Tessa.” She meets his eyes, and he can tell she's feeling shy, but he needs to know now. “You are so <em>fucking</em> hot. Please tell me what you were watching.” He manages to choke out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It was... um,” Tessa licks her lips, somewhat enjoying the power she seems to have over him, how she’s so easily harnessed his attention. “He was... it was <em>just the tip</em>”. She says, feeling as turned on as she does mortified.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott groans, leans himself against the counter as well, hoping the marble will cool him off. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a moment to collect herself. She allows herself a glance at Scott who’s just looking at her like she’s the most interesting thing in the world. She lets out a breath. Scott clearly doesn’t think she’s being silly or perverted or whatever it was that she was afraid he’d think - she wasn’t even sure herself. She smiles a bit, reminds herself of the shame she sometimes imposes upon herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Do you want me to show you what that feels like?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a deep shaking breath and shuts her eyes tightly. S</span>
  <span class="s1">he’s realising with uncomfortable clarity how wet she is for him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Only if you want, Tess.” He adds, zapping her from her racing thoughts and back to reality. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We probably shouldn’t.” Tessa says, and Scott nods in agreement. “Yeah.” He says. “No, we shouldn’t.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We really shouldn’t.” Tessa says. “You’re still with Hannah.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott agrees. </span>
  <span class="s1">“And you’re still with that asshole.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes. “That’s not a relationship.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott winces, doesn’t like the idea of that - some asshole using Tessa for sex. But then he considers the fact that <em>she</em> might be using <em>him</em> instead and feels slightly better. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Sorry.” he says. “That was stupid of me, I shouldn’t have suggested it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shrugs and gets to putting the groceries away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott goes home that night and texts his girlfriend that he has a headache so he can avoid calling her. It’s not her fault, he just can’t think about anything other than the way his body is <em>on fire</em> for something that she can’t give him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He gets a text at 2a.m. and smiles when he sees Tessa’s name flash across his phone screen because he’s weirdly glad he’s not the only one who can’t sleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Tessa: I need you to show me. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He reads it at least ten times over, putting his phone down sporadically to take a breath and then blinking his eyes to make sure he’s reading it right.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Scott: What about what we said? We’d feel too guilty. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Tessa: This feels worse. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott swallows hard, runs his hands through his hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott: <em>Will it still feel worse tomorrow?</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t respond. Scott doesn’t sleep. If she’d responded, told him it would still feel worse - how things were now, told him to come over anyway, he would have. He thinks he’s a horrible person for that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The weeks that come after are a perhaps blessing in disguise. They have a break from each other. Tessa goes away on vacation and Scott spends time with his girlfriend. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">There’s a lot he likes about Hannah. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s kind and silly and enjoys Scott’s jokes. She likes to go out and likes to play billiards and watch hockey. Sometimes she surprises him with tickets to a game. </span>
  <span class="s1">She tells him she loves him one night after they’ve had sex. Scott says it back. He couldn’t bear to leave her hanging like that. He genuinely does care about her, he just wouldn’t say he <em>loves</em> her yet. But he could, maybe. He could see himself feeling that in the future, maybe. So why upset her now? He says it back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">When Tessa returns, they’re out of sync. There’s so much they don’t talk about now. They don’t talk about their feelings for one another, they don’t talk about relationships or whatever it is Tessa’s doing with whomever she’s doing it with. They don’t have Sunday dinners anymore. They’re hardly ever alone just the two of them because they don’t trust themselves. And it’s terribly frustrating, still. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott knows he can get angry. And he takes it out on Tessa more often than not just for the simple fact that she’s with him for most of the day. He can’t help it. When his coaches make him - <em>literally force him -</em> to feel her up, he can’t help the feeling that overcomes him, like he can’t breathe. He physically can’t breathe. And she just looks at him with those big green eyes like everything’s fine. Like this is <em>normal.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He starts to look forward to after the Olympics, when they can retire and be apart and move on and when he won’t have to think about the way her heart feels under his touch, and the way her hair smells, and the way her eyes are the same green as the sheets his mom sent him for his bed (He can’t sleep in them, had to buy another set because he keeps thinking about the way she’d look tangled up in them). </span>
  <span class="s1">So he finds himself slowly pushing her away, and it hurts. It hurts to see her hurt. He’s not outwardly cruel to her or anything, he just acts cold, disinterested. And it’s not all the time - they still laugh. They still joke and goof around, but it’s not like before, and he knows she feels it too. Tessa always feels everything. She’ll never admit it but she’s actually quite sensitive. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott has a theory that it’s because of her sensitivity that she’s built up such a wall, it’s because of her sensitivity that she can sometimes appear insensitive, unwelcoming, because it’s her only defense from all those things that seem so intent on hurting her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">He knows she feels sad. He doesn’t know if it’s all because of him or if there’s something else going on, and it makes him feel terrible for not asking, but he can’t do it. He can’t break down that wall again because it’s not his place anymore, and he thinks Tessa knows that. He prays that she does. He prays that she doesn’t think he’s just stopped caring about her. But he can’t talk about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s frustrated at Scott. They never talk anymore, not about anything of significance. She knows it’s for the best, because it seems like Scott is happy with Hannah, and who is she to jeopardise that? Not that she thinks she would jeopardise it - Scott doesn’t seem to be interested in her anymore, not <em>that</em> way, anyway. He barely <em>touches</em> her, barely <em>looks</em> at her. And she understands to a point. Hannah is a bit insecure about him skating with her. That’s normal. That’s a normal way to feel, and Tessa doesn’t judge her for it, she tries her best to honour it for Scott’s sake because he says he’s happy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s felt empty for a long time now. She doesn’t really date anymore, isn’t interested in it. She’s focused on the Olympics completely. She tries not to think about life afterward, when she’ll no longer <em>have</em> to see Scott, when she’ll no longer <em>have</em> to skate. </span>
  <span class="s1">She tries to be focused and <em>in the moment </em>at all times, because everything else is terrifying. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She tries her best not to let Scott get to her. She knows he’s feeling the crushing pressure of their impending Olympics, he’s hurt his back, and he’s traveling to visit Hannah any chance he gets. He’s got a lot going on, and the press is getting to him as well. Tessa tries to pick up as much of the slack as she can. She wants him to be happy, focuses on his happiness instead of her own, because if he’s happy she thinks maybe that will be enough for her. Maybe that’s as close to happy as she needs to be. </span>
  <span class="s1">But it hurts so much when he takes his anger out on her that she finds herself curled up in bed those nights after, pressing her face into her pillow in an effort to quell her tears. She needs to ignore the pain, at least until after the Olympics. She’s always been good at ignoring pain, but this time is harder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">The Olympics don’t go as they’d hoped, and they return home each feeling a bit lost. Second place isn’t bad, it’s <em>not</em>, but it feels like the worst thing in the world. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They have a hard time coping afterward. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa worries about Scott, who seems like he’s always off at a bar with his buddies. He broke up with Hannah - she’s not sure why. They don’t talk like that. They don’t talk much at all, actually. </span>
  <span class="s1">But they do talk enough for Scott to be equally worried about Tessa, who doesn’t have any of that usual lightness to her. He wonders what would happen if he asks her how she really is, but he’s too afraid. He’s treated her awfully the past year, and look where’s it’s gotten them. He doesn’t deserve to ask her how she is. He doesn’t deserve to know. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p><hr/>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She wakes up in the middle of the night - she can’t sleep lately. She hasn’t slept well in a long time. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s naked - gone to bed just after showering. She thought it might make her feel comforted, having the soft sheets against her skin. </span>
  <span class="s1">She sighs into the darkness around her. She’s warm. She’s snuggled under her comforter, surrounded by soft pillows and clean linens, but her brain will not shut off. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">If Scott were here, he’d have woken up with her. He’d be kissing her softly, whispering to her to <em>go back to sleep</em>, <em>close your eyes</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s never stayed over his apartment, but sometimes he’d stay over her hotel room, and that’s what he’d do when she woke in the middle of the night - comforted her back to sleep. </span>
  <span class="s1">She can almost feel his warmth against her now, the softness of his lips. <em>Oh</em>, she wants that. </span>
  <span class="s1">She hates herself for wanting it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Maybe if he were here it would be enough to get her back to sleep, but he isn’t. He hasn’t been in a long time. </span>
  <span class="s1">So she thinks about what he’d do if he were here. He might hold her, rub her back or stroke her hair. That would feel nice. His hands on her would feel nice. They always did. But she could never fake that. She couldn’t <em>pretend</em> he was here holding her. Nothing felt right. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">The next thing he’d do, she thought, is touch her. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’d run his hands over her body, growing hard beneath her. Or maybe over her. </span>
  <span class="s1">Yeah, maybe he’d be over her. </span>
  <span class="s1">She skims her hands down her body, over her breasts and then down her stomach, following the curve of her hips and then moving back up just like he used to. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Yes. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He would touch her all over, his hands big and rough and greedy, and she loved that about him. He’d take everything she had to offer, but he’d give her so much in return. </span>
  <span class="s1">She missed the way he’d suck on her skin, and his weight atop her. </span>
  <span class="s1">She begins to trace her nipples with her index finger the way he liked to do and it makes her gasp. </span>
  <span class="s1">She rolls her hips wishing he were there to rub up against, or to hold her down and tell her firmly, <em>wait</em>. It sends a shiver down her spine just thinking about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And while she were straining against his hold, begging for some kind of friction, he’d chuckle in her ear, deep and playful and then in a low rumble he’d say, <em>Tell me what you need.</em></span>
  <span class="s1">And she’d moan, just like the little one that slipped out of her now, thinking about it as she squeezed her thighs together. </span>
  <span class="s1">It was likely that he’d have to prompt her again, either because she was too shy or because her mind would go to mush as soon as he got like that… Or maybe both. </span>
  <span class="s1"><em>Touch me. </em>She’d beg him. And she’d mean <em>anywhere</em>. Anywhere at all would do. But Scott loved to please in the bedroom just as much as she loved to please out of it, and he’d touch her right where she needed him without another word. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Oh<em>.</em>” She sighs as she presses her own fingers to her clit. “Mmh.” She holds them there the way Scott would, electricity pulsing through her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And he’d kiss her as he pressed against her, his tongue lapping against hers. </span>
  <span class="s1">And finally, after she’d let out a little whimper, he’d move his fingers the way she was now; slowly, teasingly, in big, wide, sweeping circles. And he’d usually whisper to her about how wet she was because it turned both of them on. </span>
  <span class="s1">She could hear him saying it right now:</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>You’re so wet, Tess. You’re so wet for me.</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And then he’d kiss her some more, pull her nipples until they burned just right, and suck on the spot under her jaw until she was bucking again. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’d move down and suckle at her breasts while he held her still and she’d grab his hair and pull on it in her blind heat and he’d moan at that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tonight, she grabbed the sheets instead. It wasn’t nearly the same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She would moan loudly and deeply. </span>
  <span class="s1">And he would come up and press his forehead against her and he’d…</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He’d… </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Fuck. What would he do?</em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He’d either tell her how beautiful she was or he’d grab a fistful of her hair and tell her to beg for it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whined. What would he do <em>tonight? Right now? </em></span>
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She whimpers into the darkness. She <em>needs</em> to know. </span>
  <span class="s1">She’s starting to go numb as she tries to just push through the mental block. </span>
  <span class="s1">And then she tries to push through the physical block - rolling over and rubbing herself harder, rocking her hips, trying and trying until she grows so frustrated that she lets out a whimper, tears collecting in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Shit. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She pulls her hand away, wriggling uncomfortably. </span>
  <span class="s1">She blinks and let the tears roll out of the sides of her eyes and down her temples. </span>
  <span class="s1">She tosses and turns like that for some time, unable to get comfortable, unable to quell the arousal, unable to imagine him there any longer. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s her fault. It’s her own stupidity why she’s here in the first place. She should have known not to touch herself thinking of him. </span>
  <span class="s1">She lays there in the deafening silence of her big empty house, throbbing for him and crying for him and scolding herself for being so fucking <em>weak</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She can’t take it any longer. If she’s going to be weak then she might as well go all in, go full on <em>pathetic</em>. She reaches for her phone, tapping his name in her contacts list and listening to the ringing. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>This is stupid. This is stupid. This is stupid. She tells herself and immediately hangs up. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Not a minute later, she gets a call back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1"><em>Fuck. Tess. Don’t. </em>She tells herself. But she picks up on the fourth ring. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And she hears his voice. “Tessa?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Her stomach drops and her mouth goes dry and she knows this was stupid but now she can’t think. </span>
  <span class="s1">She can hear thumping music in the background. He’s out. Maybe at a club. Maybe with a girl. Maybe with a girl<em>friend. </em>Maybe he’s drunk. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” He asks again, his voice slightly louder and the music fading in the background. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Tess? You there?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">It’s suddenly silent now, no more background noise. Maybe he’s gone outside?<br/>
“I’m - Hi.” She says, cringing at herself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Hi. Hey.” He says back. “Are you alright?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa swallows hard. He doesn’t sound drunk. And she’s most definitely not alright, and this call has the potential to make things exponentially worse. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m not.” She whispers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He hadn’t heard her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She can’t bring herself to say it again. She doesn’t want to know where he is or who he’s with. She doesn’t even want to know if he still cares about her. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I need you.” Is all she can muster. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Are you ok? What’s wrong?” He sounds worried. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She pretends not to notice. </span>
  <span class="s1">“No. I’m I mean yeah, yes. I’m fine.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">He isn’t asking about her <em>emotionally</em>, just physically. Is she bleeding out on the bathroom floor? Has she started a house fire? Has she electrocuted herself with the hairdryer? </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">No.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">But it feels like it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“It’s late.” Scott says, and Tessa winces. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. I probably shouldn’t have called.” She says, her voice small and shaky. </span>
  <span class="s1">There's silence on the other line and Tessa thinks he’s maybe hung up for a moment before she hears him again.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t sleep?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">It hurts her to hear him say it the way he’d used to, kindly, sympathetically, like it’s his responsibility to do something about it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Her bottom lip quivers. “No.” She says breathlessly, holding back more tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tessa?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She lets out a little sound of acknowledgement that she intends to sound less like a whimper than it actually does.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” She hears Scott sputter. “Hey hang on a sec.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She hears the noise of a busy street on his end, people laughing and chattering, more music thumping, cars whooshing by, the sound of the wind, and then… nothing. Silence as real and true as the type that has surrounded her these past months without him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“You still there?” His voice cuts through the silence like a knife through butter, smooth and gentle, but it might as well have gone straight through Tessa’s heart. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” She chokes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I just needed to get somewhere quiet.” He says, sounding apologetic. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” She says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Scott clears his throat. “What do you need, Tess?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa draws a deep, shaking breath as she tries to think. </span>
  <span class="s1">What <em>does</em> she need? She isn’t even really sure anymore. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I need you to talk to me.” She decides on saying. “Like you used to.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Scott clears his throat again, a nervous tick. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Hey, kiddo.” He says, voice rough now. “It’s late. And knowing you, you got a big day tomorrow. You gotta go back to bed, get some sleep.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa draws in a deep breath. It’s funny hearing his voice change from worry to assurance on the spot like that. It was comforting. It was good. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I want to help, Tess.” He says softly, and she can hear him swallow. His voice is genuine. “Close your eyes.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She does. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Just try to shut that big brain of yours off for a while, ok? There’s nothing good happening at two in the morning anyway, you’re not missing out on anything.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa feels her lips turn up into a smile, even as hot tears begin to escape her closed eyes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Just focus on your breathing like we used to do, right?” He says, “That helps sometimes. I’m going to do it too, ok? I’ll do it with you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s quiet then, listening as he breathes along with her, square breaths<em>. 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 3, 2, 1, 1, 2, 3, 4, 4, 3, 2, 1…</em> </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She finds herself embarrassingly unable to control her breathing, not while she can’t feel his chest beneath her, rising and filling out and then falling and stilling with each four count. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” Scott interrupts her thoughts when he hears her erratic breathing. “It’s ok, we can try something else.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sniffles. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Do you need…” he trails off, not sure if he should even ask. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Tessa says, exhaling violently, a sob wracking through her. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s breath becomes ragged. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Oh.” He says. “I just… give me one more minute, Tess, I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She hears his footsteps on what sounds like hardwood, a shuffling sound, and a door closing and locking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He says in a near whisper. “Ok.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa waits, holding her breath without even realising it. They’d exhausted options one and a substitute for two and here they are. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me what to do.” Tessa begs, and she hears Scott let out some sound akin to a groan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Start slow.” He whispers. “… what are you wearing?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Mh.” He grumbles. “Ok. Ok.” He seems unsure for a minute, and Tessa holds her breath. Maybe he can’t do this. </span>
  <span class="s1">But his voice is back before she can doubt herself further, “Touch your nipples.” He says, “Just gently, really gently. Just trace over them until they’re hard and tell me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa does as he’s asked, as he’s told her, and gives him a little hum when she’s gotten there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” He sighs. “Now pull on them. Tess? Can you put me on speaker? Use both hands. Both at once.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” She says, nodding to herself and breathing out a huff of air. “Ok.” </span>
  <span class="s1">She plays with her nipples and Scott listens intently to the sounds of her breath hitching in her throat.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Is that alright?” He asks, as if he were the one doing it to her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” Tessa whispers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” Scott nods and he’s quiet then, waiting for her to cue him, give him some sort of prompt that she wants more. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">It comes in the form of her squeaking his name, her voice hoarse, breaking the dreaded silence when she can take it no longer. “Scott?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah. Yeah, I’m here.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“More.” She pleads. “Tell me.” <em>Tell me what you’d do to me. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Touch yourself, Tessa.” He sounds defeated. “Just like before.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa hums as she brings her hand back toward her center. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Just-“ she nearly jumps at the sound of his voice interrupting her unexpectedly. He takes a shaky breath. “Just go slow, ok? Just really slow.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, eager now to have more of his direction. “Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.” Scott breathes. “Tess, tell me how it feels. Tell me when it gets to be too much.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa feels tears stinging her eyes, but she ignores them, teasing herself instead, brushing her finger gently up and down her slit, gasping softly when she grazes her clit. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It feels...” she tries to think of a single adjective. She tries to separate the tactile feeling from all of the other feelings tangled up inside of her, but it’s too hard. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I can’t-“ she sighs. “I can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Ok.” His voice is soft as silk again. “That’s ok, Tess, you don’t have to. You don’t have to do anything, ok?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She shivers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Just tell me when you need more.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa closes her eyes and tries to picture Scott here with her, running his finger over her, teasing her gently, opening her up to him, making her squirm and buck her hips. He’d probably have his mouth on her breasts, too, she thinks, so she sets her free hand there, massaging herself until she whimpers. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Rub your clit, Tess.” His voice is gruff, his direction firm and immediate. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She purrs softly as he says it. She wants <em>more</em>. She wants <em>him</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Talk to me.” She begs, “Please, Scott.” She can’t bear not hearing his voice now. </span>
  <span class="s1">She can hear his breath, heavy over the speaker.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to rub your clit, T. Not too fast, not too much yet. You can suck on your fingers, too, if you need something else."</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa brings her free hand up to her mouth, sucking her index and middle fingers between her lips and moaning. It does help her feel fuller, somehow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah?” Scott whispers. His voice has that low quality to it now and Tessa knows he’s aroused. Maybe he’s even touching himself. Oh, she likes the idea of that - Scott palming himself through his pants, his hard cock twitching beneath his hand. </span>
  <span class="s1">She sucks harder on her fingers and lets out another wanton moan. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Good girl, Tess.” He breathes, and Tessa nearly implodes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” She begs. She needs something inside her but refuses to err from his direction. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Go ahead.” He says, ever able to read her. “Inside.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes her fingers from her mouth and carefully slips one inside of herself, letting herself adjust before beginning to drag it in and out. </span>
  <span class="s1">But it doesn’t quite feel like Scott. His fingers are so hot and rough and <em>thick</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">She slips another finger inside and it’s better. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me what you’re doing with your hands, Tess.” He asks, wanting to hear her say it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Fingering myself.” She pants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“What else?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Rubbing my clit.” She whispers, shyly, her face burning at having to say the words aloud. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“That’s good.” He says, “You’re doing <em>so good</em>, Tess.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She revels in his praise. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I bet it feels really good, yeah?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods, but then realises he can't see her. “Yeah.” She breathes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” He says softly, almost affectionately, she thinks. “Now go faster.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa follows his instructions, grinding her hips as well. She wants to kiss him, to taste his tongue in her mouth, and she wants his warm weight atop her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I can hear how wet you are, Tess.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">
    <em>Fuck. Please say more. </em>
  </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Do you want to come?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” She groans. <em>So, so badly. </em></span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, fuck yourself harder. I want to hear you. I want to hear how good it is.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whimpers and goes faster, letting herself moan freely now, unabashedly. She thinks of Scott inside of her, filling her up, stretching her out, fucking her hard and fast and <em>deep, </em>and she lets out one last moan before Scott’s voice is in her ear again, sounding as desperate as she does. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to come for me, Tess.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And she does, her whole body shuddering and her trembling thighs clamping closed around her hand, as her breath hitches and stutters in her throat and her back arches as waves of pleasure wash over her finally. <em>Finally.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">There are no words exchanged for what seems like a long while, just soft synced panting and the sound of a whimper every so often from Tessa who suddenly wants nothing more than to be held. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Eventually, Scott says softly, “It’s ok, Tutu.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And it throws her over the edge. She grabs a pillow and presses her face into it, sobbing her heart out, unable to control it any longer, that release had been everything, but it broke down the wall she’d built up over the past months without Scott. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” Scott’s voice had returned to its usual gentle pitch. “Tessa, you’re ok. It’s alright. I’m here.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa sniffles. <em>No you’re not. </em>She wants to say, but she doesn't. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” He repeats over and over, until she stops crying. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry.” he says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not your fault.” She whispers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I mean for before.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And it causes Tessa to grip her phone with both hands and bring it to her cheek, squeezing her eyes shut tight, tears slipping out yet again, a quick rush of air flooding her lungs. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Please don’t cry anymore.” His voice is a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">The smallest sound escapes Tessa’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Shh. Close your eyes now.” He soothes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa listens, closing her damp eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“I know I’m not… <em>there</em>. But I’m always… I’m always <em>here</em>, Tess.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a breath of air, hugging her phone to her chest. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">“Try to breathe with me again?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">She nods to herself. “Ok.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">And as she listens to the familiar sound of Scott’s breathing, Tessa finds her eyelids growing heavier and heavier until eventually she drifts off to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p class="p6">
  <span class="s1">Scott stays on the phone until he’s sure she’s nodded off, hanging up only after pressing his lips to the phone and whispering, “Sleep tight, kiddo.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Tactful Bluntness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re both competitive, goal oriented people who are suddenly thrust out of a world coloured only in black and white - which they’ve occupied for the majority of their young lives -  and into a world of grays. </span>
  <span class="s1">There’s no scale on which to judge your actions, your appearance, your execution of a task. There are no medals awarded for being the best because there’s no longer a best, there’s just a world of people going about their business as<em> best they can</em>, whatever the hell that means. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s laying in bed. It’s not even her bed, it’s a hotel room bed. She’s in downtown Toronto for some photoshoot or another. She’s done for the day and it’s only 3 p.m., but she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t like free time, tries her best not to let herself have any, but it’s inevitable. She can’t always have a full schedule. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Free time frightens her into submission because it’s full of a million different possibilities, none of which she’s ever faced before. She’s hardly <em>ever</em> had free time in all her life. Even when she did - on rest days - that had a purpose. She was supposed to be healing her body. Now she had nothing to be healing from or for. She was empty. The world was full and she wan’t sure how to fill herself. </span>
  <span class="s1">So she stayed curled in her bed. She wasn’t sleeping, wasn’t reading, wasn’t on her phone, she simply lay there under the comforter, staring up at the ceiling, watching the shadows of the sun on the wall move about, signaling the passing of time that meant nothing to her any longer except that maybe she was closer to her next hollow obligation. At least it would give her some direction. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott was drinking a lot. He knew that. He knew he was acting irresponsibly, but he couldn’t really bring himself to care. He’d brought an old house, thought he’d fix it up eventually, give himself something to do. He was parting with his buddies, telling himself he was making up for lost time. But it didn’t feel good. It felt like he was pushing time off rather than making up for it. This wasn’t sustainable, it wasn’t healthy and he knew his family was worried about him. They’d encouraged him to call Tessa, as they worried for her too, figured she was probably feeling similarly directionless. </span>
  <span class="s1">He didn’t tell them she’d called him a few weeks ago. It had been good to hear her voice, but she’d sounded so broken, so lost. He’d tried his best to comfort her, to make her feel better and to apologise for the way things had gone before and during Sochi, but he was sure it hadn’t really made either of them feel better. </span>
  <span class="s1">He’d gotten a call from Jordan recently, worried about Tessa, she encouraged Scott to call her just to chat. They’d be touring together soon, so he figured it didn’t make sense to call again, he’d just see her when he had to. It seemed like it would be less painful that way. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Touring is strange. Being back on ice with one another, they can both tell things have changed. Scott doesn’t touch her like he used to. He doesn’t grip her as tightly, doesn’t hold her as possessively, doesn’t breathe in her ear or run his thumb across the pulse in her neck. He just does what he has to do, lifts her, sets her down, keeps her safe throughout. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pretends it doesn’t bother her, and they don’t speak about the call she made to him that one desperate night. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They find themselves in China for an Olympic gala. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On the day they have free before, Scott convinces Tessa they should see the Great Wall. He’s so worried about her. If he hadn’t all but insisted she come with him he’s sure she’d have just stayed holed up in her hotel room all day. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a humid day and the sky is foggy - or smoggy - Scott never can tell which. </span>
  <span class="s1">They hop out of the van and take in their surroundings. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s a long climb to the top, but they’ve never shied away from a challenge. Scott thinks maybe it will be good for them. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa seems less than enthusiastic as they begin their climb, and Scott’s desperate for something that will cheer her up. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I maintain that the guy at the bar last night was filthy rich.” He says as they climb. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There was a man at the bar last night from Ireland. He’d bought Tessa a drink even as she sat there with Scott. He’d come up to her afterward, inquiring on her relationship status, to which she’d divulged she was single. He’d left her his name, told her to friend him on Facebook, to message him. He hadn't known who she was, and Tessa had seemed to like that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa glances over at Scott but doesn’t say anything. Her hair’s in a braid, which keeps it neat for the most part, but the humidity has caused the baby hairs she can’t pull back to curl slightly. It’s endearing.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you going to friend him?” He asks, not a hint of jealousy is detectable. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not really looking for any sort of relationship right now.” She informs Scott cooly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not even something fun?” Scott asks. It’s unlike him to talk so freely about these things with her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not really.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not into fun lately, eh?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa huffs. “Scott, I don’t know, I’m just trying to get up these stairs.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods and is quiet in an effort not to annoy her further, but after some moments of silence, she asks him, “It seems like maybe you’re a little <em>too</em> into fun lately.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s shoulders move toward his neck defensively. “I’m just trying to do <em>something</em>. At least I’m putting myself out there, seeing people.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see people.” Tessa says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Real</em> people, like, friends.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m surprised you can even remember <em>who</em> you see.” Tessa says caustically.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott turns red. “Yeah well…” He says, trying to refute her with something equally as acerbic, but he can’t come up with anything. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I don’t like seeing you like this.” He says. “I don’t think it’s healthy.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ha!” She laughs coldly. “You’re one to talk.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott furrows his brow. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“When’s the last time you went a day without a drink?” She asks him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He opens his mouth to respond but realises he can’t actually remember. <em>Shit</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">“When’s the last time you did something for yourself?” He asks instead of responding to her question. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>enjoy</em> all the work.” She says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Bullshit.” He calls. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She stops in her tracks, and Scott stops a stair above her, turning to face her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just because I don’t go out and party and get drunk and impulse buy houses doesn’t mean I’m doing this post-<em>whatever </em>wrong.” She hisses. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He thinks he hasn’t seen her this upset in a long time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Just because I’m not filling every waking moment with some stupid engagement or photoshoot or whatever doesn’t mean I am either.” He says. “But I’m worried about you.” He allows himself this, this show of concern, because he believes it to be platonic. It certainly feels that way. This is more about them as partners, as skaters, than anything else. Tessa must have lost ten pounds since he’s last seen her. He worries over her, worries that she’s not treating herself kindly, he worries that she’s broken in a way he can’t fix. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t fight him on this. “I’m worried about you too.” She says. It’s not a comeback, it’s not deflection, it’s simply an acknowledgment of what he’s said. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott turns and starts climbing, satisfied to have aired that out. Tessa follows just behind him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It wasn’t right - the way things ended.” Scott says, and he’s talking about their skating, Tessa knows this. Part of her wishes he was talking about <em>them</em>. Part of Scott wishes that as well, but he’s not brave enough. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No.” Tessa responds. “It’s not how I wanted things to end.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It just doesn’t feel right.” Scott says. “Not because we lost -“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We didn’t lose.” Tessa says, echoing the words of her therapist, as she’s said those same words what feels like millions of times, “we came in second.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah well… same difference.” Scott grumbles. “And we deserved better.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t disagree. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It just feels like I have more to give.” She says eventually, and they’re almost at the top now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. He feels the same. “Yeah.” He agrees. “It doesn’t feel like it should be over.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They’re silent again. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe it doesn’t have to be.” Tessa says quietly from beside him just as they climb the last few steps to the top.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?” He asks her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They reach the top and Tessa moves to the far edge of the wall, resting her hands on the rough stone and looking out into the distance.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t see anything.” She says. Scott settles beside her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Tess, what do you mean?” He asks her, not bothering to look out at the foggy horizon. He looks at her instead, someone real and true and solid. Someone he sees clearly. Someone, maybe the only one, who can see <em>him</em> clearly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa squints. She can’t see much because of the fog, but she knows there’s more out there. There’s a lot out there. There’s an endless world of possibilities and there’s no reason she <em>has</em> to do anything and no reason she - they - can’t do <em>everything. </em></span>
  <span class="s1">She feels like she might float off into the mist, but then Scott’s hand is on her shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He says, and it rings in her ears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“What if we come back.” She says, turning toward him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His eyebrows shoot up. “What do you mean?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Like, what if we try for 2018.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“The Olympics?” He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. “Why not?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s silent as he thinks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1"><em>Why not? </em>They’re not happy. He thinks maybe this could be the solution. It seems kind of obvious now that she’s said it, but he hadn’t considered it before. They didn’t like their ending, but the only people that said it had to be an ending were the two of them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You want to?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She looks up at him. She hasn't entertained the thought before this moment. She’d thought she was done, but having said the words, having allowed the possibility to seep into her mind, it seems like it’s <em>all</em> she wants. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“If you do.” She says to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">A slow smile spreads across Scott’s face. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They have a lot of details to iron out, and Tessa’s glad for it. It gives her something solid to focus on. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott’s glad too for the same reason. Tessa asks him over a lot, and they sit on the floor in her kitchen with their laptops in front of them. Tessa drinks wine and Scott makes a point to have only water. It makes Tessa happy which makes Scott happy. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They get new coaches - Marie France and Patrice, who they’ve worked with on tour, who they've known through competition. They begin working with a whole team of experts. </span>
  <span class="s1">They find a purpose, start caring for themselves and one another. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa no longer spends what little free time she has in bed, and Scott no longer parties with his friends. There’s a goal now, and they’re working toward it as much for themselves as they are for each other. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They fall back into the easy rhythm of being together. Scott picks her up for practice with coffee and a pastry on occasion. Tessa lends books to him, telling him he <em>has</em> to read them (He’s been working on The Odyssey for months now). </span>
  <span class="s1">They start having Sunday dinners again. They start having little dance parties in Tessa’s living room or in Scott’s car. </span>
  <span class="s1">Their relationship isn’t sexual but it’s so very intimate that it feels almost as satisfying. They can anticipate each other’s every need, fear, desire. They can look at each other and know exactly what the other is thinking. More than anything, they respect each other. They have a love that runs so deep it doesn’t feel like it ever didn’t exist. For Tessa, she doesn’t remember a time in her life before she knew Scott. And Scott, while he can remember back before he knew Tessa, he doesn’t feel like it was fully himself then. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s a strange intimacy they have now. Sometimes, Scott will sleep over in Tessa’s bed. Neither of them talk about it really, he’ll just curl up next to her in his t-shirt and boxers and they’ll sleep. It saves him time in the morning, and they both tend to feel better rested that way. </span>
  <span class="s1">They don’t talk about romantic relationships either. Neither of them are interested in seeing anyone right now anyhow. Skating, the Olympics, one another, their own bodies - these are the only things they can focus on, and that’s the way they want it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They spend rest days tangled up together on Scott’s couch watching movie after movie and dozing intermittently. They go apple picking in the fall and Scott lifts Tessa up to tree after tree, taking so much pride in the way it makes her laugh. Tessa sits on the counter and reads to Scott while he cooks them dinner in her kitchen. He interrupts her occasionally to feed her a bite. </span>
  <span class="s1">They spend so little time on their own. Neither of them thinks about the future then, what it will feel like after this Olympic cycle. Neither of them acknowledges that there <em>does</em> have to be an end eventually. It was too painful the first time, they want to enjoy this while they can. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Working with Marie and Patch proves to be a godsend. They’ve never felt better understood, more respected as athletes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa in particular likes the rigidity of their schedules and their diets. She no longer has to worry about her free time, because it’s already decided upon for her. She no longer has to fret over chicken or fish for dinner because it’s long been determined and etched into her meal plan the same way she’s etched it into her mind. </span>
  <span class="s1">Coming off of a period of such freedom, she clings to the structure of their days the same way she does her partner and she finds herself able to fully live in the moment because of it - even if the moment’s long been planned for her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott finds the same comfort in familiarity and in Tessa. This is old hat to them, this has been their lives for as long as they can both remember. They know how to do this. They know how to be great athletes, brilliant dancers, the best of friends. It all comes back to them so easily and they’re both endlessly grateful for it, and grateful that they’ve been able to pull themselves from that pit they’d occupied just months before. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa finds herself walking through the rink with Patch one evening. Scott and Marie are already out by the cars waiting. </span>
  <span class="s1">Neither Scott nor Tessa knows, but this move is planned. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Marie and Patch had seen Tessa and Scott together before, they’d competed against them. They knew full well that the two had a relationship far more complicated than their own, but they’d never borne witness to their practices. There was something in the way they touched each other that pulled the viewer in, made it seem as though you were intruding on a private moment between the two. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa and Scott would snap back into platonic mode as soon as the music cut, but they’d watched the way Scott looked at Tessa while she was talking to another skater, a <em>male</em> skater. They’d thought it funny when the pair had refused to split up for warmups as was customary at Gadbois. They’d thought it interesting when they learned the two put up a fuss at a team meeting about scheduling their nap times at the same time, but it was the interview they’d seen the other day that finally had Marie and Patch slightly concerned that perhaps Tessa and Scott weren’t as platonic as they claimed to be. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">In the interview, Tessa and Scott were playing some silly game about how well they knew one another, when Scott seemed to imply that he slept with Tessa. Tessa had glared at him as soon as the words were out of his mouth, and he’d responded with perhaps the most ridiculous save-face either of them had ever heard. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patch had told Marie to ignore it - things were going well as it was, who were they to tell two adults what they should or shouldn’t do together. </span>
  <span class="s1"><em>That’s exactly our job as their coaches, no?</em> Marie had responded, rolling her eyes at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">So here they were. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“He loves you, you know.” Patch tells Tessa as they make their way toward the car park. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks up at him. She regards him as a father of sorts, and he’s become rather fond of her as well. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I love him too.” She says simply. “Everyone knows that.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patrice laughs. “Look, I know it’s a strange balance - and it may be hard to navigate sometimes, and I’m not really one to speak on the matter, but-“ </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa cuts him off. “We’re not together.” She tells him truthfully. “I don’t want that. Neither does he. We just want to skate.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patch raises his brows. "Just skate?" He asks.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“We want to be the best.” Tessa says, smiling coyly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patrice laughs and pats her on the back. “I’m not telling you what to do, only that things are going very well as they are. I think deviating from that might not be the best move.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa looks at him. “Oh, not you too.” She says, feigning exaggerated exasperation. It seems all anyone asks them about anymore is their relationship. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patch laughs again and shakes his head. “No, no, it’s just - Marie and I saw that interview -“</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa covers her face with her hands. “That was just Scott misspeaking.” She tells him. “It won’t happen again.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Patch can tell Tessa’s slightly dismayed at the mention of the interview and decides to drop it, feeling like his point’s been well enough received to report success back to Marie. </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Meanwhile, by the cars, Marie is having a similar conversation with Scott, bearing however, different results.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just hard some times.” Scott tells her, and Marie nods sympathetically. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It’s not that we’re sleeping together like <em>that.</em> He says, but we do sleep together sometimes like, just in the same bed. I like having her there with me and I think she feels the same way.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Marie pauses for a moment, thinks about it. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Nothing’s wrong with that.” She says. She doesn't want to upset Scott, and she isn't fully sure how to respond. She’s never seen this type of codependence between any of her skaters before. She takes a breath before turning to him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No sex.” She says plainly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott nearly spits out the Gatorade he’s drinking. </span>
  <span class="s1">“No.” He chokes. “Nope.” He shakes his head. “No.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Good.” Marie says, smiling and patting him on the back. “Good boy.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p4"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">They laugh about it over dinner that night - Tessa and Scott. </span>
  <span class="s1">They laugh about Patrice's tact and Marie's bluntness. They laugh about the ridiculousness of it all, and they're thankful that they have coaches so wonderfully attuned to them even if it means awkward conversations. </span>
  <span class="s1">But as Scott curls up on his side of Tessa’s bed that night with her, warm and soft and smelling so sweet beside him, he can't help draping an arm over her stomach and snuggling closer to her, pressing his chest to her back, spooning her.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“No sex!” Tessa says jokingly in Marie’s accent. Scott chuckles and smiles against her neck. Tessa sighs contentedly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” Scott asks against her skin.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“After the Olympics?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She takes a breath before responding, “Yeah.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Enough</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He likes the way gold looks on her. He likes it on her fingers, in her ears, clanking along her wrist, but he especially likes gold around her neck, a heavy medallion pressed against her breast bone, sending shivers all across her skin. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Gold is the thing he longs to give her, literally and figuratively. Gold is winning, success, triumph, victory. It’s the best there is, the highest standard, the greatest achievement. Tessa is gold embodied. He’s sure it runs through her veins, flecks the green of her eyes when they gleam in the sun, shimmers across her skin along with her freckles, collects in her long tresses of dark hair that fall gently over her shoulders, is seared into her fingertips so that everyone she touches feels a bit of gold on them, too. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s funny because Tessa likes silver for herself, for jewelry, that is. Something about her skin tone, she reasons, but Scott respectfully disagrees. Silver looks amazing on her, sure, but she’s golden at her core. Sometimes, he imagines, the fire inside of her can melt down the gold, and she’ll lose some of it through blood sweat and tears. Tears are the worst of it: gold streaming freely from her eyes in little rivulets, streaking down her cheeks, making her lighter and making her feel worth <em>less </em>than before. Scott tries his best to tell her it isn’t so. Her worth is not, cannot be measured in gold. Her worth has no monetary or even spiritual value - she’s boundless and beautiful, gold or no. But she prefers it - it’s engrained in her somewhere that she <em>needs</em> it, so he makes it his personal mission to give her as much gold to replenish herself with as he can while simultaneously working to show her it doesn’t <em>define</em> her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he doesn’t pretend that this is a selfless endeavour or that he’s above the glory of the stuff. He enjoys the gold as well. He enjoys the power it gives him, the strength, the clout. But it’s not a part of him. It doesn’t live within him, doesn’t make him glow outwardly the way it does her. And when he looks at the gold he’s won, he sees her reflected in it. He wonders somewhat selfishly if she sees him sometimes reflected in all her gold.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It feels good when they win gold at the Grand Prix. And they win again and again and again. He sees Tessa draped in gold over and over and he loves it. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he trips at the World Championships he thinks it’s over, surely they won’t win, but Tessa being Tessa, pulls him right back to the present and reminds him how lucky he is to be here. She’ll be ok even if they don’t take gold, but they do. They’re undefeated, and that feels really, really good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The next season isn’t undefeated, but they win their share of gold nonetheless, and Tessa seems <em>happy, </em>she seems really truly content for the first time in a very, very long time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“I like this.” Scott says lowly, his finger tracing along the collar of Tessa’s blood red dress. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">She smiles slyly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You look <em>beautiful</em>.” He tells her, emphasising the word beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you.” She says in a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott just stares at her for a few moments. She doesn’t move, lets him drink her in. She appreciates the attention.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">His hand wraps around her right wrist and slides all the way up her arm until he grips her shoulder and moves closer. He rests his head there, against her neck where he can best take in her scent. Her hand comes up to run through his hair, her fingertips scratching along his scalp. It’s so very comforting to have her touching him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’ve worked hard on Moulin Rouge, and they both feel it has the potential to take them all the way. They feel incredibly confident about their short dance as well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They don’t change much leading up to the Olympics. They stick with one another, check in, have dinner together. They follow their schedules, they follow their coaches instructions, they follow one another’s leads. They do quite a bit of media leading up to the Olympics, and Tessa isn’t thrilled about it, but Scott always tries his best to make it fun. He likes to keep her on her toes, so he’ll toss a buzz word from an inside joke into their casual conversation once in a while to see how she’ll react - it’s usually suppressed laughter - she’s gotten better at controlling her giggles over the years to Scott’s disappointment. But it’s nearly equally as cute to watch her lips trembling in an effort not to laugh. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He leaves a bucket of rice by her door - it’s a thing, don’t worry about it, and the next day she wraps her arms around him and doesn’t let go for a whole three minutes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The world is frightening, the pressure is mounting, but they lean on one another, and they take things day by day. </span>
  <span class="s1">Scott looks to Tessa a lot. She’s always there to hold on to, she’s always solid, unwavering, unrelenting. She’s so very strong and he doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve her. She never lets him down. Never. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they complete their final program at the games, Scott just about feels like he’s going to explode. He rushes toward her and takes her in his arms, spinning her around, clutching her as tightly as he can. He can peripherally feel her nails digging into his arms, but his body has mostly gone numb. She kisses his cheek and he sets her down for just a moment before pulling her back against him. It felt good, really good, and he thinks they might have done it. He can tell Tessa thinks the same, the way she’s shaking. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He takes her hand and she clutches it tightly as they take their bows. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Last time.” Scott says, and it’s bittersweet. “Take it in, T. We did it.” Because they did do it, even if they weren’t to walk away with gold, they still got here. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa’s still breathing hard, the adrenaline surging through her veins. She feels like there’s something caught in her throat, and like she might want to cry. This is really it. The last time. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They skate off the ice together and wait. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And they’ve done it. And it’s the last time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night, they stay in Tessa’s room. Kaitlyn stays with Andrew. Nobody asks questions. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggles as she lays on the bed. </span>
  <span class="s1">They’re both completely exhausted after a night of celebrating. At this point it’s well into the morning, but still dark enough out where Scott knows they should try to sleep. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa turns toward him and pulls at his shirt with that look in her eye. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott just laughs and takes her wrists in his hands. “You’re drunk.” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa giggles again, her nose scrunching. “Not.” She says, climbing on top of him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lets her. She leans down, pressing their chests flush together and runs her smooth cheek against his. She smells like peaches and soju and he can’t help reaching an arm around her waist to hold her close. She’s so warm against him. He can feel her nuzzle his cheek, can feel the way she drags her lips across the little spot under his ear. He lets out a little grunt when she kisses him there. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tell me I’m good.” She whispers, rolling her hips once against him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” His hands grip her tighter. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, tell me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We won gold, T.” He chuckles, joking. “You’re the <em>best</em>. We’re the best.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott thinks he’s a bit tispy, himself. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can feel Tessa shaking her head, her hair tickling his skin and covering him in goosebumps. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Tell me I’m good, Scott. Tell me I’m a good person. I want to be good.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott furrows his brow, grips her tight and rolls them over so he’s on top. He smoothes her hair back, runs the back of his hand across her rosy cheek and then down her neck to the flushed skin of her collar. His fingers runs across her freckles. </span>
  <span class="s1">When he looks up at her and their eyes meet, he shudders at the shock it sends straight through him. She’s perfect. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want you.” She reaches up to him, her fingers running through his hair, down his neck, his back, under his shirt. But he stops her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re not doing this drunk. He doesn’t want her to regret anything. He won’t risk that. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa whimpers when he stops her, but he holds firm. </span>
  <span class="s1">“It’s ok.” He tells her. “It’s alright.” He presses his lips to her cheek and realises she’s crying. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Hey.” He whispers, “No, don’t do that.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s seen too many tears from her today. On the podium, they were happy tears, though. He’d been enamoured with them, but these aren’t happy tears. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want to.” She says, slurring her words slightly and pushing his hand away from her cheek where he was trying to wipe the tears away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” He asks, lowering his lips to her ear the same way she had for him. He kisses her there gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I feel like it.” She says. “‘cause I…” She hiccups, and Scott smiles sadly against the skin of her temple. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I can.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott chuckles. “You can.” He confirms. “You can do anything you want.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa pushes at his chest and he moves back to look at her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want <em>you</em>.” She repeats. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott looks sorry. “Not like this, T.” He tells her. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She looks defeated and for a moment, Scott hates himself, but he knows this is the right call. He doesn’t want it to be like this. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa sighs and pushes himself off of her, rolling onto her side and curling up. Scott shuts the light off and moulds himself to her, holding her close, his hand on her stomach. He kisses her shoulder and pulls the blankets up over both of them. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Warm?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa nods. Her eyes are already closed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott settles back against her, the familiar warmth of her making him feel at home even here, somewhere in the middle of South Korea. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Get some sleep, kiddo.” He tells her. “You deserve it. I’m so proud of you. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott?” Tessa whispers in the darkness. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Am</em> I a good person?” She asks. Her voice quivers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course you are.” He tells her, worry in his voice. “Tess, of course you are.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t sat anything for a while, so Scott runs his hand gently up and down her arm, trying to soothe her thoughts. He’s not sure where all this is coming from. “You’re a good person, T. You’re good, kiddo. You’re good.” He whispers, telling her again and again. He'll tell her as many times as he needs to to make her believe it. He kisses the back of her head and</span>
  <span class="s1"> feels Tessa shiver slightly so he pulls her closer, his arm moving under hers so he can wrap it around her waist. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m proud of you, too.” She tells him, sleepily. “You’re a good person.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not until weeks later that they actually indulge in one another. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t really think my mom would go for that.” Tessa giggles when Scott suggests having their parents come on ice when they come to the tour they’re planning. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, come on, she’d do anything if I asked.” He jokes. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re laying in her bed, showered finally and completely exhausted. Neither of them have the guts to check the time. They don’t want this day to end. It’s been so nice just relaxing together after the endless interviews they’d had.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“She would.” Scott insists. “I have a strange and powerful pull on the Virtue women.” He wiggles his fingers as if to connote <em>magical powers</em>. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa laughs.“Oh do you?” She teases. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott moves closer, placing his hand lazily on her hip. “I do.” He says softly. “Do you want me to prove it?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles gently. Her eyes dart down to Scott’s chest and she sucks her lower lip between her teeth. When she looks back up at Scott, he’s wearing the most lovelorn look she’s ever seen. </span>
  <span class="s1">She runs a hand up his arm and into his hair, and he’s silent as he watches, waiting for her answer.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Prove it.” She says finally, and he surges forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that’s been years in the making. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa feels it too. They’ve been touching each other all day now, unable to part. It was too painful. That was the scary thing for both of them, the dependence they felt on one another. But Tessa’s not thinking about that right now. It just feels so very good to kiss him now. </span>
  <span class="s1">She pulls at his hair, feels him nip her lower lip and soothe the burn with his tongue. And then his hands are on her waist, his fingers dragging gently up and down her hips and then running in small circles over the material of the joggers she’d changed into. </span>
  <span class="s1">He moves up slowly, his fingers slipping beneath her shirt and running across the band of her pants and then up to her ribs where he touches her so gently that she shudders, pressing against him. </span>
  <span class="s1">She kisses him harder, trying to pull him further against her, but he stills himself and pulls away, a huge grin on his face when Tessa whines. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See?” He says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And she feels her face go red. She’d rather forgotten what they’d been talking about before. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa rolls her eyes, but can’t help smiling. She pushes at Scott’s chest, but he doesn’t move.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“T?” He says, and she looks up to him. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I think… I was hoping…” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But she doesn’t let him finish, because she’s pressed herself flush against him, kissing him hard again. </span>
  <span class="s1">She breaks away only to pull his shirt off, and Scott pulls hers right off as well.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re inseparable now, the two of them. Scott’s not sure if it’s a product of their renewed and committed partnership or if it’s that they’d had such a terrible time apart last time that they don’t want to part again, but he’s not complaining either way, because Tessa sleeps in his hotel rooms while they’re on tour and she lets him touch her and everything seems perfect.</span>
  <span class="s1">He feels like all he knows is <em>Tessa.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it scares Tessa because while he might be enough for her, and she might be enough for him, - she really thinks she might be, judging from the way he looks at her - she still thinks she might not be enough for <em>herself. </em> </span>
  <span class="s1">And she comes to realise this is true. All the pre-ordered coffee and chocolate treats and Sunday dinners and spontaneous car karaoke sessions can’t fix that for her. </span>
  <span class="s1">So she pulls away, and Scott realises this slowly. And it hurts him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s gradual, the way she does it. Scott doesn’t really know how to label it at first, he can’t quite place a finger on what’s changed between them, but he knows it’s <em>something</em>. </span>
  <span class="s1">And then he realises that Tessa’s stopped wanting to be close to him. She’s stopped wanting to stay in his arms after sex. She’s stopped asking him to watch movies with her, stopped pestering him to read whatever book she’s just finished. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s easier to do it now as opposed to after their tours end, after they stop skating. Tessa’s never thought they were going to get <em>married</em> or anything. She’s never considered it. She’s never allowed herself to think beyond her next gold medal, but now that all that is behind her, she’s forced to consider the future, and she finds herself terrified that she can’t see it at all.</span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s wrong?” He asks her as they lounge out in an open soccer field by their hotel one sunny evening after practice. It’s the last stop on their tour. Then they’re done. Really, truly done.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s sitting on the tinny soccer bench they provide for the players, and Tessa’s laid out on it, her head in Scott’s lap, face turned up to the sky, eyes closed to block the golden light out. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He strokes her hair and waits for her to formulate an answer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa doesn’t pretend it’s nothing. She doesn’t pretend to not understand why he’s asking or that she doesn’t understand <em>what</em> he’s asking about. They’ve both known this conversation was coming. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know what to do.” Is her answer. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Talk to me about it, then.” Scott says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know what I want.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The words hurt Scott to hear. He feels like she’s reached into his chest and wrung his heart.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know I want you.” Is his answer. All he can offer her is himself. If she doesn’t want him there’s nothing he can do.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s looking down at her, her sweet face. He loves to study her freckles, find little patterns or shapes in them. She looks so peaceful now, almost like she’s sleeping. He continues stroking her hair because he wants her to feel as serene as she looks even though inside <em>he</em> feels like he’s being destroyed. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know if I can be what you want.” She says, her eyebrows moving together slightly, like saying that was hard for her. Scott doesn’t want it to be hard. He strokes her forehead now, trying to get her expression back to peaceful as best he can. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You already are, T.” He says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A warm breeze picks up and rustles the leaves in the trees behind them along with the prairie grass on the far side of the field. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa shakes her head as much as she can manage in his lap. “I’m not.” She says. “I know you want more.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa thinks about Scott’s future a lot. While she can’t envision what hers will be like, she had no trouble seeing Scott’s. She imagines him waking up and making pancakes with children scampering around at his feet. She imagines him reading them bedtime stories and tucking them in and she imagines him in his backyard - big and wide as the field they’re in now, somewhere in the country. It’s where he’s happiest. And that doesn’t feel like <em>her</em>. She just can’t picture herself there with him as much as she wants to. And this is it - they have their last show and then it will be over. She doesn’t want to set him back if he could be with someone that could give him those things - give him the future she sees for him. </span>
  <span class="s1">So she takes a shaky breath and she opens her eyes, blinking up at him. His hand moves from her hair to hold her hand. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to have more.” She says. “I want you to have <em>everything</em>. Everything you want.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess.” He says, she can tell he’s blinking back tears, and he is. Scott feels like his lungs are on fire. He wants <em>her</em>.</span>
  <span class="s1">“I can’t do it… I can’t do it without you.” He’s not even sure exactly what he means when he says it. Even the most mundane things seem impossible without Tessa. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa reaches up and strokes his cheek. “Don’t you think that’s the problem?” She asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because one day they’re going to wake up and want completely different lives and if they have nothing holding them together, forcing them into each other’s arms for eight hours a day, stuffing them into cramped hotel rooms in unfamiliar corners of the earth, shoving them together for television interviews and sponsorships and meet and greets and <em>tours</em>, how will they know how to go about doing anything on their own?</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have to <em>learn how</em>.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott shakes his head subconsciously. He doesn’t want to learn how. He doesn’t even think it’s possible. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Scott.” Tessa’s eyes are shimmering now with tears unshed. “Please.” She whispers. She’s begging him not to make this harder than it already is. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s bottom lip quivers and his hand goes back to her hair, stroking gently. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa closes her eyes at the feeling, forcing the tears out and down her cheeks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.” Scott whispers. “Of course, Tess. Shh. It’s alright, I understand.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he does understand what she’s saying. But he thought they’d already tried going without one another, after the last Olympics, and it hadn’t turned out well for either of them. He truly thought they had a future together, whatever that might have looked like. He wasn’t ever going to force Tessa into anything. If she didn’t want the things he wanted it would be ok. He’d compromise. He wasn’t going to force her into a role she didn’t want or ask her to fit his expectations. She is her own person. They are their own separate people. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he’ll give her whatever she wants, even if that means giving her away. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I want you to be happy.” He tells her and then he doubles over so he can kiss her forehead. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa lets out a deep sigh and it feels like there’s a knife in her lungs. “I know.” She says. “I want that for you, too. <em>That</em> would make me happy.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott doesn’t say that <em>she’s</em> what would make him happy, because clearly she doesn’t see things that way. If she’s not happy together, maybe she’ll be happy apart. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Tess?” He asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott rakes his nails across her scalp and it’s a sensation so comforting and familiar to her that she instinctively turns her face into his abdomen, breathing in his scent and letting it calm her as best she can manage. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you.” He tells her. “I’m always going to love you. You’re going to have to deal with that. I’m sorry.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles and Scott’s fingers come to her cheek now, his fingertips stroking her there gently. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you too.” Is what she says. </span>
</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They finish their tour and part ways for the first time in nearly three years. </span>
  <span class="s1">It’s hard at first - it feels like learning every single thing over again, and it’s painful. There are tears shed on both sides, sleepless nights and time cursing themselves and one another. Scott begins seeing a woman named Ava, and Tessa works on her image, cultivating a small brand for herself. Slowly things become easier, less forced. </span>
  <span class="s1">The day Tessa finds out Scott’s engaged - through Ava’s post on instagram - she doesn’t get out of bed. She doesn’t cry, but she doesn’t get out of bed either. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Two weeks later, she meets a man named Chris and they begin a relationship. It’s not the same as with Scott, but it’s good. She likes him. She comes to love him. She feels ok, and Scott feels the same. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Tessa and Scott meet for a speaking engagement in the spring, she falls right back into his arms like she never left, and he holds her just as tightly as always. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I really am so happy for you.” She tells him as they sit backstage after their speech. She sips on bottled water through a straw. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles. “Thanks.” He says, nodding. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s silence between them, but it’s not uncomfortable. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m proud of you.” He tells her. “I’ve seen what you’ve been up to. I know you’re too humble or whatever to talk about it, but… I’m proud of you.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip. For some reason it hurts to hear him say that. “Thank you.” She says back. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What about you?” She asks. “I’ve heard rumours you’re going to be <em>coach</em> Scott in the near future.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “Yeah, yeah, I think so.” He says. “Getting excited about it.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles at the way he flushes. </span>
  <span class="s1">“I’m really proud of you, too.” She tells him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott smiles widely, but it falters. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Hey, Tess?” He asks, looking down at his hands. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This guy you’re with… he’s the real deal, eh?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott had met Chris briefly at a few parties and engagements. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s the real deal.” Tessa confirms. “He’s good to me.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods, but his face is skeptical. </span>
  <span class="s1">“He likes your freckles?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Tessa chuckles. She loves that he’s concerned about that. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Yes.” She tells him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods again, swallows hard, twists his hands uncomfortably in his lap. He still can’t bring himself to look at Tessa. </span>
  <span class="s1">“He tells you how beautiful you are?” He asks softly. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa takes a sharp breath and releases it slowly. This is hard. “Yes.” She answers. </span>
  <span class="s1">Tessa realises she can’t read Scott, can’t tell what he’s thinking, but his concern for her is the sweetest thing she’s ever heard, so she slips closer to him on the sofa they’re on. He looks sad. </span>
  <span class="s1">“Come here.” She says, holding her arms out for him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott gladly takes her up on the offer of a hug and settles against her just like always. He clears his throat, rests his head on her shoulder and breathes in her familiar scent. She still smells like home.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“Does he bring you flowers?” Scott asks. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa bites her lip and nods against Scott’s temple. Her hands move up to cradle his head and stroke through his hair. “Yes.” She confirms. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott takes a deep shaking breath before asking his final question while they’re still wrapped up in each other’s arms. </span>
  <span class="s1">“He loves you the right way?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa blinks quickly, tears welling up in her eyes. “He does.” She whispers. </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott’s fights the burning in his eyes, his throat, and buries his face in her shoulder, holding her tighter. He nods, his hand trailing across her back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">“You know I’ll never really leave you, right?” Tessa asks him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Scott nods. “I know.” He says. “Me either.” </span>
</p>
<p class="p3">
  <span class="s1">Tessa smiles melancholically. “I know.” </span>
</p>
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